24 Hours
by Shichan Goddess
Summary: Lily and James loathe each other. Passionately. But when they're captured by Deatheaters and forced to stay in the same cell...well, who knows what will happen in 24 hours?
1. Hour 1: Hour of Awakenings

24 Hours

By: Shichan Goddess

Hour 1: Hour of Awakenings

"When Love is suppressed, Hate takes its place." Havelock Ellis (1859-1939)

"Argh…" Lily Evans groaned as she touched a slim hand to her throbbing forehead. Emerald eyes assessed her drab surroundings. She was in a cell, and a rather medieval one at that. It was damp and dark, crawling with rats and other unmentionables that Lily had no intention of dwelling upon. The witch sat up, pushing a fiery red lock of hair out of her face.

Her eyes fell upon the two cots squeezed into the tiny cell. Lily's eyebrows rose in utter astonishment as she noticed yet another body huddled over itself in a corner. She got to her feet, slightly dizzy, and made her way over to the other side of the room.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir? Are you all right?"

"Finally noticed me did you, Evans? How terribly unobservant for an elite Auror." The figure pushed up against the wall, face shadowed.

Startled, Lily took a few steps back and scowled. "And who, pray tell, are you?"

There was a weak chuckle, and the figure moved into the dim light. "Really, Evans, after all we've been through together, I really rather thought you would have remembered my voice."

Lily's lips pulled back into a sneer of disgust. "Oh it's _you_, Potter. How could I ever forget your voice? It still haunts me in my dreams."

"Friendly as ever, eh, Evans?"

"Only to you."

James Potter sighed, and meandered over to where Lily was resting against the wall. She glanced at him warily, and scooted a bit to the side.

"Oh for Merlin's sake Evans, I'm not going to hex you!"

"You never know."

James shook his head irritably, his messy locks flying. He sank to the hard floor, and after a moment's hesitation Lily followed. She was careful to stay a decent distance away, however, and James heaved another moan of disgust.

"Honestly, treating me as if I have the bloody plague or something," James muttered to himself.

"I'm afraid your frightfully wonderful personality and limited mental capacities will infect me."

"Shut up, Evans," He turned to address her. "Now…do you remember what happened? I'm drawing a blank. Deatheaters…and then, nothing."

"And here I thought you wanted me to shut up."

"Out with it Evans!"

Lily sighed melodramatically. "Well, if you insist…Actually, I don't remember much either."

"Great. Just bloody great."

"Potter! There is a lady present!"

"Where?"

A slap resounded through the room. "Ow, Evans!"

"Can't take it, Potter?"

They fell into silence for a few minutes, and Lily shivered as the cold penetrated her robes. Now that there was only Potter's breathing matched with her own, she swore she could hear the pitter-patter of rats scurrying about. She shuddered at the very thought of one of them creeping atop her while she slept.

"Cold, Evans?" James' slightly mocking voice floated over to her.

"No." Lily said stubbornly, cursing the man's perceptiveness silently.

A frosty, stony silence fell, and Lily grimly realized that this arrangement was provocatively designed before she drifted off to a slight doze.

A/N: Waves Hello there! Shichan here. I'm sorry if this chapter seems a little short and abrupt, but honestly, it's only their first hour. I promise that the next chapter will be more interesting! (And longer) Please review! Ja!


	2. Hour 2: Hour of Contemplations

24 Hours By: Shichan Goddess Hour 2: Hour of Contemplations  
  
"For of all sad word of tongue or pen, The saddest are these: It might have been!" ~John Greenleaf Whittier  
  
The cold seeped through his thin Auror robes and he inwardly shivered. The floor was hard, the packed dirt giving no mercy to his extremely sore and uncomfortable bum. He could just hear the nasty little critters mocking him by running over his feet. James gave a snort of revulsion before crawling over to his cot. That would provide at least some protection against the cold and the disgusting creatures. He wondered, amused, if Wormtail had any relations in this hellhole.  
  
His alert, hazel eyes wandered the cell. He was suddenly very thankful that his glasses had made it through the ordeal untouched, for without them, he was, quite honestly, as blind as bat. His eyes rested on the slim redhead whose back was turned towards him. Her waist long hair glittered in the pale light; reds and golds reminding him strongly like the Gryffindor that she was. It reminded him of fire, wild and untamable.untouchable.  
  
She shifted in her sleep, and turned to face him. He drew a surprised and awed breath. He had forgotten how beautiful she truly was. Especially in sleep, when her features were calm and serene-not the usual scowl that was directed his way. She looked like an angel, and James amused himself with the irony of appearances. In sleep, no one could have believed that she truly was a dragon when awake.  
  
A small smile played on his lips, soft and slightly sad. He was honored to have witnessed such a moment of serenity and ethereal beauty, but bitter. He brought to mind her sparkling, vibrant, and usually furious emerald eyes that looked to him in disdain. Her eyes sparkled like the stars when she looked at him. Cold, and just as far from his reach. She would never be his. He recalled all the idiocies that he had done during his stay at Hogwarts in a vain attempt to impress her, and groaned. It was no wonder that she would never look twice at him.  
  
She was beautiful, fiery, and incredibly annoying. Loud-mouthed, humble, and always ready for a good argument. Not that he'd ever tell her that. James snorted. The day that he told Evans that she was beautiful would be the day that the pigs came to his house via floo powder.  
  
In control of his emotions and contemplations, he smirked to himself. The red head sprite began to mutter to herself as she slept. 'Crazy as a loon,' He thought, and wondered absently what she was dreaming about.  
  
****************  
  
It had started off as a pleasant enough dream. She had been sunbathing on a lovely beach, the sand soft between her toes and the water warm. She was of course, not fazed when a large white bunny hopped into the picture muttering to itself about being late. She was however, a little bit shocked when a massive snake slithered past her, and her landscape slowly faded and morphed into one that was completely different.  
  
A manor. A large manor, with the fire blazing. Pictures waved at her from every wall, but for some reason she could not make out the details of what lay in them. Someone was sitting next to her, her red hair spilling over both of them like a waterfall. She was comfortable. Cared for. Loved, even. But the perfect picture was ruined by the apprehension that was thick in the air. It stifled her.  
  
And then.  
  
The screams.  
  
*****************  
  
"Damn it, where the hell are they?" Sirius Black growled as his eyes surveyed the empty pick up point. His light blue eyes, usually shining with mirth, even in these dark times, were unusually hard and turbulent. He silently willed them to make their appearances, swallowing a lump in his throat.  
  
Remus sighed, running a shaking hand through his light brown hair, weary and worried. "I don't know, Sirius. But the Order is expecting us. We'll have to go."  
  
"But-"  
  
"We can report this to Dumbledore, and then come right back to check. They're probably just running late. Perhaps Lily finally hit James hard enough on the head to make him pass out and is hiding his body as we speak."  
  
"That's not funny, Moony."  
  
Remus shrugged and tossed him a tired grin. "It could happen."  
  
Sirius sighed. "That it could. All right, lets go." He grumbled, and began walking briskly out from the clearing.  
  
*****************  
  
A rather plump rat poked its nose out of the foliage and watched as his two.friends walked away. He cowered as he felt the burning sensation on his arm increase. He felt.something akin to regret, he supposed. The Sorting Hat had been wrong, placing him in Gryffindor. But of course, it never knew that the Dark Lord would come into power.  
  
Power corrupted all.  
  
Including himself.  
  
Perhaps, just perhaps things would have turned out differently had he been a little bit stronger. A little bit braver. A little more confident. But he wasn't. And he had submitted to the Dark Lord's will.  
  
A tiny twinge of remorse was quickly squished down, and only a broken, terrified, and weak man remained. Peter Pettigrew, proud Marauder and Gryffindor in the olden days.was dead.  
  
A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers! Especially to Sirius Black, my first reviewer, who made a lovely suggestion that I will be using in the future. *Glomps reviewers* Thank you ever so much for your reviews, they made my day! 


	3. Hour 3: Hour of Visions

24 Hours

By: Shichan

Hour 3: Hour of Visions

"Very often the vision comes slowly, bit by bit, like a scene set on the stage. At other times, however, it is sudden and fleeting. Something passes before your eyes, and it must be seized quickly or it is lost." ~ Gustave Flaubert (1821-1880)

The screams.

Oh, the _screams_.

_"—Take Harry and go—!"_

_"—It's him—!"_

_"—Run!"_

_Her dream self turned and fled. The screams continued—those of agony, of denial, betrayal, and sheer utter desperation were, she vaguely noticed, being torn from her own throat. She was racing up the stairs now, despair and determination coursing through her veins._

_There was a high-pitched cackle._

_A flash of green light._

_'Nonononononono…' And she knew, at that terrible moment, that she was alone. Alone in the world, without the man that she loved with all her heart. Without— _

_Her heart was torn and shredded to pieces, but he had died saving HER and Harry, and she was not going to let that sacrifice go to waste. This was neither time nor place to cry. _

_She pushed the numb feeling down, and focused her thoughts, so that she could think of just one thing. 'Harry. Have to get to Harry before it's too late, oh god, He's coming, He can't get Harry, I won't let him, almost there, so close, just a little bit more…' _

_She reached the room, gasping for breath, triumphant. She leaned over the cradle to the wailing child, and he stopped when he peered at her through his bright, emerald eyes that mirrored her own. _

_She gathered the precious bundle in her arms, cooing at him as her mind desperately raced through possibilities on getting out. Then, the door was creaking open, and she suppressed a scream of denial that her beloved was truly dead and now…_

_Now…_

_She was next. No, perhaps not…Harry. She would never let that happen. Not her baby!_

_"Not Harry!" She begged as the dark figure glided closer to her, "Not Harry! Please—I'll do anything—" 'Not Harry, please God, not Harry!' _

_"Stand aside you silly girl!"_

_'Never!' She promised herself, 'I'll never let you have Harry!'_

_"…Stand aside, now…"_

_Even if it resorted to begging. She would never give up. Perhaps Voldemort would spare her son if her got her instead. "Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—Not Harry! Please…have mercy…have mercy…"_

_But Voldemort did not believe in mercy._

_He raised his wand, his eyes red malicious, taking a perverse delight as he saw the fear in her eyes. She was not afraid of death. But Harry—_

_"Adava Ked—"_

Suddenly, Lily found herself being pulled from her dream world, away from the figure donned in black. She felt hands on her, shaking her lightly and calling her name and her emerald eyes popped open. Leaning above her was the hated pair of crimson, slitted eyes, and she gave a battle cry as she swung her fist into the gut that was so conveniently in arms reach.

**************************

Sirius gnashed his teeth together as he awaited the end of the meeting. His foot tapped the floor quickly, nervously, and his light sapphire eyes glanced constantly at the shut door. It made him feel trapped, suffocated in the large, overcrowded room. Anxiety stole his breath away, as well as his patience. Dumbledore was standing up as he addressed the Order and Sirius glanced at him, disinterested, before returning his gaze to the closed, silent door.

Remus elbowed him in the ribs discreetly, but none to gently. "Sirius," He whispered, "Pay attention."

Sirius shot Remus a dark look, and continued his vigil. With one ear open, he heard Dumbledore announce that the meeting was over. People stood up to leave, and Sirius sighed in relief. "Finally!" He exclaimed, stretching his arms above his head, and popping his neck. He ignored Remus' look of disgust, and once again glanced around the room. 

Remus followed his look and remarked quietly, "Are they still not here yet?"

"No."

"I'm sure they're fine." 

Sirius gave a small nod of acknowledgement, but even to Remus' own ears, his words were weak and feeble. 

"After all, they're full-grown adults and I'm sure that they're being responsible and careful."

Sirius gave a dignified snort.

A/N: I know that in the beginning James' speech is butchered up, but she can only hear certain parts at the moment, everything's a blur, fading in and out, all right? ^_^ Just in case any of you were being nitpicky. Anyway, thanks to TheFionna and her insomnia, Vamperfly, Chewy, Lori, Kanariya, and Poofiemus for their kind and inspiring reviews! They made me feel all fuzzy inside! ^_^ Next chapter up soon!


	4. Hour 4: Hour In Which Chivalry Is Dead

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 4: Hour In Which Chivalry Is Dead

"Habituation puts to sleep the eye of our judgment." ~Montaigne (1533-1592)

Lily Evans was a soldier. An elite. An auror with carefully honed instincts that were sharpened to the point of perfection.

This was war, after all. If one didn't have the correct instincts, then he was a dead man walking.

Consequently, when she awoke from the throes of a nightmare only to find a darkened figure leaning over her, she did what a soldier had been trained to do.

She attacked. There was a wild flurry of action as she leapt out of her cot and onto the figure. The figure, caught by surprise, wind milled and then fell down, with a hard plop on the ground. Lily straddled the attacker's stomach, fist raised and eyes blank.

"Evans! Get off of me!"

The voice penetrated her mind like a douse of cold water. The screams were fading from her ears, and dulling into a rushing noise. Her dream slipped through her fingers like water, leaving only a vague remembrance behind. A cold, numb feeling that penetrated her very being was all that remained, a half forgotten memory. 

Too late, however, did the red haziness fade from her vision, leaving her staring into flabbergasted amber eyes instead of the red malicious ones that had been there a moment ago. 

"Evans!"

Lily blinked again, trying desperately to place a name to the voice. 

"Evans!"

A patch of moonlight crept out from its hiding place of the clouds. The weak alabaster light washed upon their two forms, and Lily recognized the face.

"EVANS!"

"Potter?" She breathed, staring at him and letting his shirt slip through her suddenly numb fingers. She glanced at their position and blushed, her mind backpedaling to what had transpired seconds prior. Her emerald eyes widened. 

"You PERVERT!" She shrieked turning a lovely shade of red that matched her hair.

"What?" James exclaimed stupidly, and due to his shock did not manage to dodge the hard slap that came to his cheek. "Ow! Bloody hell, Evans! I didn't do anything! I was giving you my cloak! I was being _chivalrous_!"

Lily examined herself before rolling off him. Sheepishly she added, "I'm sorry about that Potter."

"Yes well, you have a hard slap for a girl." He grudgingly admitted. "And your response was understandable." He winced as he gingerly touched the red stinging handprint that lay brilliantly across his left cheek.__

Lily sniffed indignantly. "For a girl?"

"What?"

Lily rolled her eyes as she scooted over to the wall to lean against it. "Honestly, Potter. Being sexist and not even realizing it. You ARE a moron."

James stared at her. "And you're one of those bloody feminists, aren't you?" Before she could retort, he sighed and amended, "You have a hard slap. Period. Are you happy now?"

Lily smiled weakly, "Yes." She leaned back with a sigh, trembling slightly. Her adrenaline left her and weariness flooded her veins. The terror that she had experienced was like no other, and its lingering effects left her feeling vaguely ill. 

"What were you dreaming about, anyway, Evans?" James' voice was nearer now; he too had propped himself up against the wall. It was gentler, kinder, but Lily was not in the mood to notice such things.

"Nothing," She muttered, glaring darkly at the floor. "Why do you care anyway? You're just an egoistical prat!"

James pulled back, angry. "What?! Here I am, trying to be nice to you Evans, and you're STILL infuriating!"

"Me? What about you?! Leaning over me, trying to be 'chivalrous'. Hmph, oh I bet that's _exactly _what you were doing!"

"What are you implying by that Evans?!" James was on his feet now. "Are you implying that I was being a pervert?"

"So what if I was?"

"Argh!" The chocolate haired wizard threw his hands in the air. "Honestly, you're impossible! And if was **you**, if I'm not mistaken, you were on top of ME!"

"Don't be disgusting!"

"And then you get off punching and slapping me, and knocking me to the ground!"

"I said I was sorry!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't sound like you meant it!"

"Honestly! Listen, Potter, how about this. You shut up, and I'll shut up. Your whining is giving me a headache!"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"_Fine!_ "

"_Fine!"_

And so, the two of the greatest aurors in the most prestigious, Order of the Phoenix, sat down at opposite ends of the cell, and sulked.

******************************************************************************

"My servant, you have done well." Scarlet eyes glittered with malice and twisted pleasure as he idly twirled around a glass of dark liquid.

"Thank you m'lord."

"I honestly didn't think that you would be up to this. But it seems that I have underestimated you, Peter.  You fed me the correct information. I _am _impressed." Eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "There's only one problem, my dear servant."

"Y-y-yes, m'lord?"

The wine glass smashed against the wall, and shattered into a million different shards. The red liquid dripped eerily from the wall and from the shards.

"YOU BROUGHT ME THE WRONG TWO!" He roared, and Peter cowered in terror. "I asked you for Figg and Black. And now, do I have Figg and Black? NO!"

Peter cringed, but Voldemort smiled. "However, you did bring me Potter and Evans. I have awaited their capture for the longest time, and they have continued to elude me. No longer. I have desired this pair even more so than that of Figg and Black. I have been waiting for this for a long, long time..."

Peter breathed a sigh of relief, deflating.

"However, this does not change the fact that you disobeyed my orders. CRUCIO!"

A/N: Thank you again to my lovely reviewers! You guys made my day! And I know, once again, this isn't very long, (but it is longer) and I didn't include Sirius and Remus' pov's, but I really wanted to post, and so, here it is. Please review! After all, you know that authors like on feedback! Feed the hungry! Stop starvation! Thankies! ^_^


	5. Hour 5: Hour of Foot in Mouth Syndrome

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 5: Hour of Foot In Mouth Syndrome

"It is better to keep your mouth shut and appear stupid than to open it and remove all doubt." ~Mark Twain (1835-1910)

"Oh get off it, Potter! I didn't hurt you _too_ badly, now did I?"

James pouted to himself and rubbed his hand over his sore cheek once more. "Yes."

Lily gave an irritable sigh. "You're an idiot."

"Why, thank you!"

"And a prat, you know that?"

"Yes, Evans, I'm well aware of your sentiments for me. I've only heard them every bloody thirty seconds!"

Lily smirked at him. "As long as you know that I hate you, I'll be happy."

James inwardly winced, and took several deep calming breaths.

"After all, Potter, you're an egoistical, annoying, stupid moron…"

James' eyes flashed with anger. "Evans, where do you come off—"

"Who got us into this mess."

James gaped. "What the bloody hell? Are you daft, woman?"

Lily sniffed indignantly. "Well it had to have been you. Your blundering idiocies _must _have gotten us captured."

"Wha—Arrgh! Women!"

******************************************************************************

"Peter!" The short, plump man glanced wearily in the direction of the shout. The familiar walls of the Order's meeting place were strangely foreboding tonight, and did not bring him the comfort, the _luxury_, of safety. For no one was ever safe from the Dark Lord.

"You look awful, Peter," There was Arabella, always worried and doting after everyone's health. "You must have heard the news of James and Lily's capture."

"Hm? Oh, yes, I heard."

"You poor boy," Arabella tutted, looking compassionate. "I know that James was—is, a good friend of yours."

"Yes, yes, of course."

She led him through the lit hallways to the makeshift bunks, and throughout the way, sickeningly sweet concerns were tossed in his direction. The well wishes and sympathetic glances were nearly more than he could take.

He wondered, absently, what they would say, what they would think, if they knew the _truth._ In all honesty, however, he was not eager to find out. 

A small part, a very small part, whispered that this was wrong, that this was the utmost betrayal. It was quickly silenced however, by the Dark Lord's promises of power, admiration, and_ respect_. _They'll all get what they deserve, every last one of them!_ He thought with conviction. This was war, and there was no use in thinking about the well being of others. There was no time for friends or loyalties. There was only one thing that mattered in this whole damned war, and that was _himself_.

******************************************************************************

 "You're a big headed prat."

"You're a know it all."

"You still run your hands through your hair to make you look cool!"

"You snore!"

"You're a womanizer!"

"You're a feminist!"

"You pig!"

"You troll!"

"You MAN!"

"You WOMAN!"

"You're infuriating!"

"Yes, well, so are you!"

"Shut up!" The two cried at once, and fell back into a sulky silence, glaring at the walls.

******************************************************************************

"Moo~oony…" Sirius wheedled. "Come on, Moony."

Remus didn't even glance up. "Shut up, Sirius. We have to follow procedure. You know that we can't report anything until the person has been missing for twelve hours."

Sirius growled in frustration, and exploded, "Look, just because YOU don't care, it doesn't mean that I'm going to sit back here and do nothing!" Sirius immediately regretted his words as soon as they left, and wished he could snatch them from the air and stuff them back inside his mouth.

Remus pulled back his hand as if burned and took a step back into the shadows. His eyes were covered by the shadows made by his bangs, and he stared at the ground. 

"Moony, look, I didn't mean—"

"Yes, I know. I'm a werewolf," A bitter smile touched the corners of his lips briefly. "And I can't…_care_."

"Moony—!"

"No, Sirius, I know." Remus' quiet voice was soft and slightly weary. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

Sirius bit his lip as he stared at the other's slumped shoulders. He cursed himself and his god-forsaken mouth, and wished that he could rip out his wretched tongue. 

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Remus glanced up at him, a small smile on his features. "Well then? Shall we go?"

Sirius stopped, bewildered, "What about procedure?"

"Damn procedure."

Sirius' mouth dropped open as he watched Remus' retreating back, and quickly hurried to join him.

******************************************************************************

A/N: WOW! Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! I was overwhelmed by the massive amount I got for the last chapter. And yes, thank you to all of you who pointed out my silly mistake of Cruciatus, instead of Crucio! *Hangs head in shame* Oh well, I'll fix it later. Thanks to: Psycho-Me, Frigg, Kanariya, Lori, Yami Jenny, Reader, Gabby, freakyfroggurl22, Sara the Flutist, a lil' help, Logalog, and Twisted Crimson! You all made my day! Thank you for feeding the hungry authoress, please continue to do so! ^_^


	6. Hour 6: Hour of Arses

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 6: Hour of Arses 

"The proof of true love is to be unsparing in criticism." Moliere (1622-1673)

Lily checked her watch. It had been six bloody hours stuck with Potter and there was no end that she could see. It had been a miserable, depressing, and very, very long six hours. So, the crimson haired witch took a deep breath and gathered her Gryffindor pride as she addressed the person across the cell.

"Potter."

"What do you want, Evans?" Came the response, her name nearly spat out as if it were a curse word.

"Look Potter, you're a complete and utter arse and I despise you." The scarlet haired witch gave a long-suffering sigh and then continued, ignoring the sputter of indignation. 

"Pull all your punches, don't you?"

"But, due to these rather…desperate circumstances, we have to call a truce."

"A truce?"

"Yes, a truce, Potter, does your feeble brain comprehend that word?"

James scowled at her form, half-hidden in the shadows of the cell. "Fine, Evans, fine. But this is just because we need to work together. But after this, it all returns to normal, got it? You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours."

"Of course," Lily sniffed disdainfully, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good." James stuck his hand out and Lily reluctantly reached out to shake it. However when their hands met, they felt a very strong shock and pulled their hands hastily away. Lily stumbled and fell onto the cold concrete floor.

"What did you do that for, Potter?" Lily groused from her position on the floor, nursing her hand as she glared up at him. "Don't you understand that we have a _truce_? No more childish pranks!"

"Me?!" James exclaimed. "_I _didn't do anything! You gave me a shock with that hand of yours!" 

"I did no such thing!"

They glared at each for a few moments before James sighed and offered an explanation. "Well, Evans I honestly did nothing. And apparently neither did you. It must have been our magic colliding."

Lily was silent for a few seconds and nodded reluctantly. "I suppose that could be it." She hefted herself up so that she was standing again, and admitted, "It didn't even really hurt anyway. It was just sort of a shock." _Almost… rather pleasant. _

"All right, then lets try this again, shall we?" He offered his and gave her a firm and very brief handshake, which left their hands with nothing but a warm tingle.

******************************************************************************

"Moony! Moony, where are you going?" Sirius raced to catch up to Remus' quickly retreating form.

Remus snorted, not bothering to grace him with a glance. "Where do you think? Dumbledore, of course."

Sirius was saved from replying by Arabella Figg's voice cutting across the distance between them. "Sirius! Remus!" She was quickly shuffling towards them, eyes wide and worried. 

Remus turned to look at her. "What is it, Arabella?" He asked kindly, as he stopped for the usually unflappable witch. A hint of panic and anxiety was in her tone that made him anxious.

She rung her hands as she glanced at them hesitantly. "It's—it's Peter, he's been in a daze since he came in…"

Sirius felt a jolt of chagrin course through him. Truth be told, he had not even noticed that he had been gone. Torn between finding Dumbledore or going to Peter's aid, he finally gave a sigh and followed Arabella and Remus to where his fellow Marauder was. 

******************************************************************************

"Potter!" Lily cried with excitement coursing through her veins as she leapt up. "There's a window!" 

"Really." James was completely unmoved by her sentiments and gazed at her disinterestedly from his position on the floor.

"Potter! It's a WINDOW!"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was I supposed to be surprised? Of course there's a window, Evans, are you daft? Where do you think that we were getting the moonlight from, anyway?"

"Oh, shut it Potter. Do you reckon that we can get out?"

"James eyed the pitiful structure with a dubious eye. "No, unless you can manage to squeeze through those bars."

"Well, do you think that we could break them?"

"Perhaps…" James mused, a glint in his hazel eyes as he stared at the distant window with an assessing gaze. "We'd have to get up there though."

"Well, that's easy enough. I can get on your shoulders."

James glanced at her petite form dubiously. "Are you sure, Evans? I rather like my shoulders."

Lily flushed furiously. "Shut up Potter, I don't weigh so much, and you know it, you git."

James chuckled and nodded, much to the surprise of his companion. "I know, Evans, I'm sorry. It was out of reflex."

His smile was soft and sincere, and Lily felt herself nodding in spite of herself as a faint fluttering of hope stirred within her. The tousled haired man crouched down. "Let's try this, shall we?"

A/N: Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow, _wow_. Umm…I'm in shock. But a delicious sense of shock that comes with surprises. So, THANK YOU to my SIXTY reviewers!  I am so happy! ^_^ Thank you ever so much to all of you—you really made my day! So thank you, thank you, thank you! And I'm sorry to those of you who didn't like the way I portrayed James and Lily—I do have to admit that their bickering can get childish, but it's fun to write. I wrote this chapter really quickly and I'm not too satisfied by it, so I'm going to post another chapter as well, seeing how I'm not going to be able to access a computer until Monday. Double post! Yay! So please review again, your comments really made my day!! *Wanders off in shock* Sixty…sixty reviews…Please continue to feed the hungry, gluttonous authoress!


	7. Hour 7: Hour of Understandings

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 7: Hour of Understandings

"The best way to destroy an enemy is to make him a friend." ~Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

_Whump!_

"Oof!" Hard breathing for a few moments before a pained voice finally managed to articulate his opinion with a weary sigh. "I don't think that this is working, Evans."

Lily grunted in agreement as she rolled off her position from being sprawled on the floor. Her long, luxurious crimson locks were matted and tangled with dirt and sweat and she pushed it back with an annoyed grumble. "One more time."

James sighed but stood up once more. With their added height, they were able to access the window, but with a certain degree of difficulty. He crouched down and Lily took her place on his shoulders as he held her legs tightly. James suppressed a groan as her feet dug into his already sore and aching shoulder blades once more and lifted her higher still.

Lily stretched until she felt as if her arms were going to pop out of her sockets. Her slim fingers brushed the edge of the bars that covered the windows teasingly and she nearly growled in frustration. She was so _close_…She managed to grasp the bars for the first time with a strong grip and she was about to give a trill of triumph but instead gave a shout of shock and pain.

"Evans? What's—?" 

The searing pain was unavoidable as it laced up and down every nerve in her body. She wind milled backwards and felt herself toppling dangerously into empty space. She closed her emerald eyes, ready for the impact but instead found herself cushioned from the floor by a slim, lanky body.

"Potter?"

James spat out the hair that had managed to work itself into his mouth. "What?" He groaned.

Her voice was soft, wondering. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Evans. But if you don't mind…"

"Oh!"

She quickly crawled off of him and sat beside him on her heels as he slowly, painfully, got up. She bit her lip, feeling guilty as she watched him try to hide a grimace of pain. "I'm sorry, Potter."

James waved her off. "Don't mention it, Evans. I simply thought that your head didn't need any more knocks on it."

Lily bit her lip again as she assessed his slow movements in sitting up. "Perhaps we should stop for now," She offered hesitantly.

James nodded, blinking so that the blackness faded from his vision. Once he was certain that he could focus, he glanced at her as he propped himself up against the wall. Curious, he questioned, "What happened when you touched the bars?"

Lily shivered as she tugged her robe closer around herself. "Oh…it felt as if—it felt like the Cruciatus, only… _lessened_ somehow…"

James closed his eyes as despair overwhelmed his fatigued form, and he felt the faint hope flying out of his reach. He heard Lily shuffle her way towards him, as she too leaned against the wall for support. He opened his eyes and looked at her.

Her eyes were wide and blank as she looked at something that he could not see, deep inside herself. The aftershocks of the Cruciatus left her shaking like a leaf on a cold autumn's day. They sat in silence for a moment, before she whispered, "Do you know what it's like?"

He did not have to ask for an elaboration. Quietly, he answered, "Yes."

Lily shuddered, her eyes slowly reverting back to their normal selves, but still slightly haunted. "How?"

"The summer before seventh year—Deatheaters attack. They had great fun using it on all of my family." His eyes darkened with pain at the memory and his voice grew distant, emotionless. "They used it over and over again, and none of us could fight back, because nothing in Defense Against the Dark Arts had ever taught us to deal with that. My mum and dad—they fought until the very end, protecting us…but it wasn't enough. Mum, Dad, Sarah. They died. I lived."

Lily was silent for a few moments as she waited for him to gain his composure as he left his field of memories. They touched something within her, knowing that she was not the only one who had suffered. It made her feel a strange bond that only war could bring. 

"I'm sorry, Potter."

James nodded his head in acknowledgement.

Lily continued, feeling the words of her past surge within her like a turbulent ocean. She took a deep, calming breath. "My parents died too—they were tortured to death because they were muggles in my sixth year. I was at school."

Her last few words were said with a whisper of regret and sadness. James was similarly quiet before he laid his hand on her shoulder as an act of compassion. "I'm sorry Evans. I really am."

"Lily."

"What?"

"You—you can call me Lily. If we're going to be stuck here in this miserable cell then we might as well call each other by our first names."

"Yes, indeed."

They chatted for the longest time of inconsequential things such as favorite ice cream flavor or broomstick, of likes and dislikes, of pets and memories of happier times. They explored the essence of the other's very soul, and found, to their surprise, the wonderful people that lingered underneath the layers of rudeness. 

Lily felt her eyes drooping once more and her head lolled, falling onto James' shoulder. She gave a soft, sleepy sigh and smiled as she inhaled the scent that was solely and purely James. With contented thoughts, she drifted off into the land of Nod and was soon snoring lightly.

James sighed as well and his eyes drooped close. No sooner had he done so did the door of the cell creak open. A cold, malicious voice that haunted his dreams dredged him out of his stupor as hard, blood red eyes twinkled in malevolent delight. 

"Well, well, well…Now what do we have here?"

A/N: There we go! I liked this chapter much better than the last! I hope you enjoyed the double post and please review; you've all been wonderful to me! I'll have a new post up on Monday, I promise!


	8. Hour 8: Hour of Temptations

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 8: Hour of Temptation

"We gain the strength of the temptation we resist." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

"Well, well, well…now what do we have here?"

James' hazel eyes snapped open and darted towards the door of the cell. The flickering light from the corridor caused the figure to cast long, looming shadows, shadows that hid all his facial features. All features except for the glittering crimson eyes that were ingrained into James' memory. They were filled with something akin to pleasure as they gazed at the two's huddled forms, and James shivered in the suddenly frigid air.

He swept into the room and James shook himself out of his stupor as he slowly, slowly reached for the wand that wasn't there. His own eyes were calculating as he estimated the odds of surviving without putting Lily in harm's way. His gaze automatically darted to the figure lying beside him.

Voldemort gaze a light chuckle of pleasure as he saw where the gaze was cast. "And to think, that I was half expecting you two to kill each other…no, this is much more…_enjoyable_." Softly, he murmured, "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

James' hands clenched in anger as fury blurred his vision for a moment before he regained control.

Voldemort did not miss the brief flash of emotion. He continued to stroll around the cell, teasing James' with the nearness of his dearly wanted revenge.  "I wonder what I shall do with her when her usefulness is over…Perhaps she can provide _amusement_."

"Don't you dare touch her." His voice was calm, deadly. 

Voldemort raised an eyebrow in mock surprise, taking perverse delight from getting a rise out of the Auror. "Really…and exactly what would you do to stop me?"

Hazel eyes darted again to the innocently sleeping redhead who murmured softly in her sleep and cuddled closer to his warmth. _'Anything. Everything.' _He thought. As he wondered, vaguely, why she hadn't woken up, Voldemort answered his unspoken question.

"She will not wake until I bid her to."

"What did you do to her?"

"Nothing, Potter, that cannot be easily remedied. She will awake when she wills herself to wake from her dream world, or when I bid her to. Otherwise, her sleep shall be uninterrupted…forever."

James felt a jolt of fear rush through him. She would awake only when she wished to return to reality instead of staying in her dream world… And what crazy person would choose hell over heaven?

He gently eased her to the floor and stood, knowing quite well that he had a snowball's chance in hell of doing any injury to Voldemort if he attacked now. His brashness from his youth had lessened somewhat, during the war, because he had seen what brashness did to people. Or rather, he had seen the remains of the people who were foolish with their timing and decisions.

"What do you want?" He questioned quietly.

"What do I want?" Voldemort's lips drew back into a thin line faintly resembling a smile. "It's not what _I _want, Potter, it's what you want. All I want is for you to see the nobleness of my cause—the extermination of all mudbloods. All I want is for you to join my ranks and become my loyal disciple. But it does not matter what I want. I can give you what you want the most."

He slithered closer, midnight robes swirling around him majestically. James suddenly heard the voice that haunted his dreams coming from every corner of the cell enticing him with it's promises.

"I can offer you so much more than what Dumbledore can…One of yours has already joined my ranks…I can offer you what I offered him…

_Fame…_

…Fortune… 

_…Glory…_

_…Power…_

Then, a murmur that came whispered into his ear, as Voldemort suddenly reappeared behind him. "And I can even offer you what you would never otherwise have, Potter…"

_"…Her."_

A/N: Terribly, terribly short, I know. *Cowers* I'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll have the next one posted tomorrow! And I promise that we're getting near the action! The next chapter will be much more interesting. Please, please review—they really make my day! Thank you to all my kind reviewers you reviewed Chapter 6 and 7. Thankies! *Hugs*


	9. Hour 9: Hour of Sacrifices

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 9: Hour of Sacrifices

"War is the province of danger, and therefore courage above all things is the first quality of a warrior." Karl von Clausewitz (1780-1831)

"So, Potter…what do you say? Will you take my generous offer and have everything you ever wanted at your beck and call? Or will you continue to side with Dumbledore and be at fate's mercy every hour of every day for the rest of your life until you finally die a lonely death at my hand? Choose Potter. Will you join my ranks?"

The moment of truth had finally arrived. If James Potter, heir of Gryffindor could be turned, then it would be the most monumental of triumphs for their side. 

"Never."

The simple word was quietly spoken, but with it held certainty, pride, and defiance. All his beliefs and his emotions were vocalized in the one word. _'Lily…it would be best never to have you at all if I had to live the rest of my life wondering if you truly cared for me, or if it were a spell. I couldn't live like that. And I would never expect you to. Sirius, Remus, Peter, Mum, Dad, Sarah…I hope that you would be proud._

Voldemort's lips pulled back into a sneer of disgust and he pulled away like James stank of something foul. "Ah, bravery. The most hated of traits, and the emblem of Gryffindor. Truly despicable, Potter. I thought that your pure blood would run deeper than this."

James trained his eyes straight ahead, his face blank, ignoring Voldemort's breath tickling his ear. "I would never betray the trust of the Order." _Nor Lily's._

"You realize, Potter, that since you refuse my offer that you will have to be suitably…punished. Your life is forfeit."

"Yes." '_I would do anything for them. Anything for her. Anything.'_

"You would give up your own life to spare her…?" Voldemort's voice was filled with revulsion.. "Weak."

James laughed hollowly. "I would hardly call myself weak, _Tom._"

Voldemort's eyes flashed with cold anger. "Silence! Potter, you insolent fool, you will regret the choice you made today. Perhaps after some _treatment_, you shall think otherwise."

James snorted. "Not bloody likely."

"So be it." Voldemort turned, his robes sweeping out behind him. Here was James' chance, with Voldemort's back exposed, and he took it. He launched himself into the air, and a split moment later there was a sickening:

_Crack!_

Voldemort gabbed James' arm and _wrenched. _James could feel his arm being ripped out of his socket, and he was unable to muffle the cry of pain. Darkness crept in at the edge of his vision, and he could see Voldemort's dark form gliding towards the door, unhidered.

"Oh and Potter?" Voldemort turned to the huddled form on the floor of the cell, a small smile touching his lips. "Don't attack from behind. It is very unfitting for a Gryffindor. Much more of a…_Slytherin _course of action." 

James clutched his dislocated arm and winced in agony as he tried to scoot over to the wall as the cell door slammed shut. The simple motion left him gasping, stars shooting in front of his eyes. He heaved for breath for half a minute, trying desperately to gain his self-control back. He choked back a keening cry of pain, determined.  

His vision finally cleared and he glanced at Lily. _I would do anything…_

_For her._

******************************************************************************

"What happened to him?" Sirius questioned quietly as he glanced at Peter's pale and exhausted form on the bed. 

Remus looked up, expression grim. "It appears that he was hit with the Cruciatus curse."

"Do you think…?"

"Yes. That's exactly what I think. He must have been there when Lily and James were captured…Perhaps he went to look for them and was ambushed."

"That's our Wormtail…an absolute git to be caught, but for a noble cause." Sirius remarked, a grudging respect in his tone.

"We should leave him alone. He needs his rest." Remus murmured, and Sirius nodded. Remus blew out the candle and they both left.

Peter's eyes shot open in the darkness. _'If only you knew, Sirius…if only you knew…'_

A/N: Sorry for the abrupt shortness of the chapter, but hey, next chapter is sure to be longer because of all the interesting things I'm putting in it. Thank you all, once again for the lovely reviews. They made my day! ^_^


	10. Hour 10: Hour of Finding Out About Doors

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 10: Hour of Finding Out About Doors

"Torture is a very humiliating experience. The goal is not to obtain information but to punish and break you so that you won't do anything against the authorities. You are made an example to others so that they will be too terrified to do anything either." Isabel Allende (1942-)

Voldemort strode out of the cell with quick, fluid movements, his eyes nearly black with rage. He turned to the Deatheater who was standing guard outside of the cell, and hissed, "Why don't you show Mr. Potter to the chambers downstairs…I'm sure that he will find that his mind will be more open after he is shown some of our more _convincing _methods."

The Deatheater stood stock-still, scared stiff as realization dawned upon his handsome features.   

"Take Malfoy with you as well for your interrogation." Crimson eyes flashed as the man made no movement. "Go!"

"Yes, m'lord!"

Voldemort straightened his robes and continued on his way to his chambers while the new recruit scrambled to find Lucius Malfoy and gather their prisoner.

******************************************************************************

James had just gotten into a slightly comfortable position, with his arm clutched to his chest when the cell door slammed open once more. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing them to go away. "Why, Merlin, why?" James muttered softly to himself. All he wanted was to curl up on the nice hard floor of the cell and pass out. _Is that so much to ask?_

Apparently, it was.

"Get up, Potter." The voice held a familiar drawl and a hard kick was sent to his gut. 

Hazel eyes opened wide, as James gave a small gasp. He quickly shut his mouth however, and glared into ice blue eyes. He was soon heaved to his feet by strong arms. His gaze traveled up the arms but he was met only with the typical Deatheater mask. 

"All right, all right, don't get your panties in a bunch." James grumbled and he was led roughly out the door. He spared one last glance at Lily's sleeping form before the cell door slammed shut once more.

******************************************************************************

It was wonderful.

Lily sighed happily as she snuggled into the warmth of her blanket in front of the roaring fireplace. She was at the one place that she could truly call home—Hogwarts. She was curled up in the comfy, overstuffed chair, happily sipping butterbeer and reading her favorite book of muggle poetry.

The butterbeer slipped down her throat and warmed her tummy, making her feel slightly tingly. A darkened figure appeared behind her, and she smiled, her eyes crinkling.

The man wrapped his strong arms around her, and she sighed contentedly. His face was hidden in the flickering shadows, but Lily found that she didn't care. After all, who was to argue with pure bliss?

A sanctuary from war. 

Hate. 

Suffering. 

Destruction. 

The sickening stench of death.

A refuge from _memories._

An asylum from the entire world world. 

Something seemed slightly off in this moment but Lily ignored the nagging at the back of her mind, pushing it back and locking it in away.

This was what she had longed for her entire life. 

_Peace._

******************************************************************************

"Well, well, well, Potter, isn't this quite a predicament that you've found yourself in?" Malfoy drawled as they led him through the darkened corridor.

Twists and turns were constant, and James quickly discontinued his effort to keep count. After nearly ten minutes of walking, he was at last face to face with a door.

And a very unimpressive door at that.

It was a sturdy door, made of hearty wood and several inches thick. Absently, James wondered why. 

Malfoy caught him staring and smirked, taking a key out of his robes and pushed him into the darkened room.

"It's made this way to muffle the screams, Potter. Let's test it, shall we? Lumos!"

James' eyes widened. The room was filled with all sorts of torture devices, many of which he recognized from his textbooks, and many which he did not.

The Deatheater pushed him in and locked the door. James stumbled, trying to catch his balance for a moment, and finally accomplished the feat.

"You see, Potter," Malfoy smirked, "The Cruciatus Curse is too good for you. The Dark Lord would very much like to make this last." 

James' eyes widened slightly then hardened as he glared at the man, if indeed he were fit to be called one, in front of him. He schooled his features into a blank mask, defiance showing proudly in his eyes.

Malfoy favored him with a sneer as he picked up a whip. "Well then. Shall we begin?"

******************************************************************************

A/N: WOW! I love you people, you know that? ^_^ I can't believe it, but you actually pushed me past the 200 review mark! Jeez, I feel so special now! When I started this story I never even thought I'd get past the 50 reviews mark! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really wanted to get this chapter longer, but I have to get up early and it's already 2:53 AM. Hope this was to your liking! Torture, twists, and other good things are coming soon!


	11. Hour 11: Hour of Agony

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 11: Hour of Agony

"A wound, a red badge of courage." Stephen Crane (1871-1900)

Warm crimson trickled down James' back, coating his hands that were secured behind him. He was on his knees, a position that he despised, and blood ran down a corner of his mouth as he bit down on it hard, determined not to scream.

Determined not to give that sick bastard the pleasure.

Another crack of the whip, and fire laced his every nerve.

He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't give in. He wouldn't give in…

But it hurt like hell. 

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?"

"Wouldn't you like," James gasped between breaths as he greedily gulped for air in the short reprieve. "To know, you git."

Lucius' eyes narrowed and he grinned. "Naughty, naughty, Potter. I suppose that your thick skull has yet to process my question. Perhaps it needs," He held the whip up high, slick with the blood that was glistening off of it. "A little INCENTIVE!"

_Crack!_

_I will not scream, I will not scream, I will not scream... _And he didn't. He wouldn't. He schooled his features so that they were blank, even when Malfoy twisted his dislocated arm cruelly.

_Crack! _

Another lash, another scar. What else was new?

_I won't scream, bloody hell, I won't, I swear it by my mother's grave, I won't scream, I won't,Iwon'tIwon'tIwon't…_

_Damn it!_

A muffled gasp made it past his lips, and Malfoy's eyes gleamed. "That's more like it, Potter." He leaned in closer, so that he was next to his ear. "Scream for me, Potter…"

James bit his lip again, staring ahead with dead, cold eyes. "Never." 

It continued for what seemed like forever, but in reality was nothing but mere minutes. Malfoy seemed rather fond of the whip, but he was not against using some of the more creative machines. 

He let James' body drop to the ground, and James found that he could not get his legs to support him. His body was a mass of bruising and lacerations that even now continued to ooze blood. His ribs were fractured, he was sure of it, and his head pounded.

It was hell.

But James had held true to his promise. Not one sound of pain escaped his lips, nor did a tear escape its cage. He goaded Malfoy into a rage with his remarks, until his breath ran out and his throat grew raspy. His lips twisted into a wry smirk. He knew that one day his mouth was to get him killed. Perhaps today was the day.

"Tell me about the Order."

"No, I don't think I will."

"Where is it located? Who are the members?"

"Hmm…No."

Malfoy backhanded him, and James' head flew to one side. Quietly, Lucius questioned again, "What is the Order of the Phoenix? Tell me, Potter! I can make this all stop. No more pain, wouldn't you like that?"

James spit the blood from his mouth, even as a small part of his mind begged for the enticing promise. The dark-haired wizard pushed it down, squashing it.

He grinned and beckoned Malfoy a little closer, and the blonde Death Eater leaned in. James spat in his face, gaining pleasure from the disgusted look on his tormentor's face. 

Firmly, quietly, so that there was no mistake, he whispered, "Never."

He may have been bruised, bloody, and broken, but he was not beaten.

_He_

_Would _

**_Never _**

_Be_

_Beaten_

******************************************************************************

_Peace…Peace was nice._

But it was boring as hell.

Lily was sure that she could have grown to appreciate it deeply, and she was beginning to fall in love with it, but that persistent nagging at the back of her mind was growing louder and louder…

At the very edge of her consciousness, just out of her reach, she could feel a warmth that she could not feel in this…mirage.

Everything was a shallow feeling, and Lily couldn't bear it. She was truly getting annoyed but every time that she attempted to grab the feeling it fluttered away from her teasingly, dancing at the very edges of her fingertips. 

Her awareness of the feeling slowly started to slip away, and she sighed in frustration, unable to recall what she was reaching for.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around her in a huge bear hug once more, and Lily squealed with delight as she gazed up into deliciously warm hazel eyes.

"Hullo, James."

******************************************************************************

They had removed his glasses to make him feel even more helpless then he already was, trying to overpower him by making him take leave of his senses. However, James could feel the soft sweet beckoning of unconsciousness begin to sneak its way across his vision. He begged for it to come and take him, but it appeared that the Death Eaters were not interested in letting their prey escape so easily.

"This spell is my favorite Potter," Lucius drawled, James tuned him out, staring foggily at the moving mouth.

Malfoy muttered a spell, one that James had never heard of, and blearily did not pay attention to. Lucius gently touched the prisoner, and gave a satisfied smirk as James winced from the fire that laced his every nerve like wildfire. 

Any thoughts of unconsciousness fled as the feather light tough produced more pain then that of the whip. Hazel eyes stared up at the cold, ice blue ones, and they glowed with a perverse mirth.

"As I was saying Potter, this spell is a favorite of mine with prisoners…you see, it makes their nerves be sensitized by tenfold. So every—little—touch will produce a pain so intense that even you, the great Gryffindor, shall be broken. I wonder what will happen," Lucius purred mockingly, "When we use the whip? Lets find out, shall we?"

Even James could not hide his terror at the words.

_Crack!_

And James _screamed._

******************************************************************************

James breathed heavily as he was allowed to slump to the floor once more. He had allowed only one scream to pass his lips, a sizeable feat. His bottom lip was bloodied and he could hear the soft sound as it dripped off his chin and onto the dirty cell's floor. 

He had not responded to Malfoy's questions and had gotten a harder beating because of it. Finally, however, the session seemed to draw to a close, as Lucius grew bored with the prisoner that wouldn't make a sound, no matter how hard he was provoked.

The Death Eater snorted and dropped the whip to the ground. He grabbed James' head and stared into the glazed hazel eyes, even now holding the pride and fire of his soul. He jerked James' closer as the spell that enhanced the nerves receded and whispered, "I'll be back to finish you later, Potter." 

Lucius stood, and turned to the other Death Eater who had just finished retching as the sight of the torture had turned his delicate stomach. Lucius gave a repulsed sigh and dropped the keys into the other's hand. "As for now, I have better things to do. Finish up in anyway that you'd like, and then take him to the cell. Master will call for him later."

There were swift receding footsteps and door swung creakily open and then closed. James felt no relief at the departure, however, because he was far from finished. James paid little heed to the new torturer, for a torturer was a torturer, regardless of who stood behind the whip. 

"Well then," Came the hesitant voice from behind him, "Why don't we start off with a few questions?"

"How about we don't?" James muttered, turning his head to the side, and staring at the ground. He turned only when no blows rained against his back and stared up at the Death Eater blandly.

"Well…?"

The Death Eater fumbled with the whip in his fingers, but made no move to raise it. James cocked an eyebrow at the blatant inexperience. His wide, young eyes pleaded for James to make his life easier, to just tell them the information. But James was a Gryffindor. And Gryffindors never took the easy way out.

"What is the Order of the Phoenix?"

"You're a bit thick, aren't you? Shove off. I already said no."

"But if you just answer a few questions, then you won't have to go through any of this anymore. You're a pureblood, the Dark Lord will spare you…"

James' eyes crinkled as he stared up at the veiled face of the owner of the earnest voice. "You really believe that, don't you?" He questioned quietly, and gave a soft chuckle. "Voldemort spares no one."

"But—"

"Never."

"Why are you making this so difficult for yourself?" The Death Eater sighed

"Because I'm a moron." James deadpanned. "Now, take off that bloody stupid mask of yours, you git. You're being a coward. Face me like a real wizard instead of hiding behind a piece of cloth."

Hands hesitantly reached towards the edge of the mask. Slowly, reluctantly, it came off, and James' eyes widened marginally as he squinted up at the man

"You?" He asked disbelievingly, "_You're_ the one who's going to torture me?" Mirthless laughter bubbled past his lips. "Oh, Merlin, this is rich."

A/N: WOW, you people are awesome! (Hey, did you notice that this chapter was longer?) Your reviews overwhelmed me yet again, and I was happily drowning in fluff. Thank you ever so much for your kindness—you know who you are! Please review, they make my day! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it was rather cruel. *Ducks tomatoes* Sorry, sorry!


	12. Hour 12: Hour of Redemption

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 12: Hour of Redemption

"You can close your eyes to things that you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to things you don't want to feel." ~Anonymous

Mirthless laughter spilled from bloodied lips. "Oh, the irony," James chuckled, wincing as the movement disturbed his fractured ribs. He squinted into light blue eyes that were a mirror of ones that he knew so well, framed by a face only slightly different from the one that he had committed to memory. The Death Eater's hair was slightly shorter, leaning towards brown instead of pitch black, and his face—his features were no less handsome, but he failed to give the air of confidence and exuberance that graced the face of his older brother.

"Hullo, Regulus." James smiled softly as the man, nay—boy started, looking guiltily to the floor.

James continued, undaunted by the lack of response, almost to himself. "The gods of irony must be rolling around on their arses at this…" He smirked bitterly, and turned his gaze back to the floor. In a cold, quiet voice, he commanded, "Get on with it."

Regulus' hand trembled, his pallor pale as he raised the whip into the air. James grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut as he waited. Regulus raised the whip…

But once more, there was no sound of it slicing through the air, there was no flash of fire and agony…there was only the dull, resounding clunk as it dropped to the floor. 

Hazel eyes popped open as he stared at the whip that was discarded and abandoned from his would-be tormentor's grasp. His gaze slowly turned once again to the boy's face, which was hidden in shadow.

In a choked voice, strangled with emotion, Regulus whispered, "I…can't…"

******************************************************************************

Light blue eyes were bloodshot as they glared over at the figure that was sitting behind the desk. The fire cast shadows that danced across the room gracefully, washing everything in a soft, unearthly glow, but it was unappreciated by the three that resided in the room.

"It's been twelve hours, Arabella." Remus' voice was a forced calm that he did not feel as he too stared into the impassive eyes of the squib and his tactical commander.

The older woman turned her gaze from the fireplace to Remus worried and slightly irritated face. "It's been twelve hours, Remus. Procedure calls for twenty-four hours to search for a missing person." She searched his face before turning back towards the fire. "You know that, Remus."

"Damn it!" Sirius cried angrily, and pounded his fists into the desk in front of him. "Figg—you know as well as I that they've been captured, and we do not _have _twenty-four hours."

"Black-"

"No, Figg, listen! Damn the hell out of procedure, sometimes it doesn't work and this is it!"

The middle-aged woman gave a weary sigh. "Black-"

"You _know_ that no one has ever survived for more then twenty-four hours in capture, and you _know _that they're probably being tortured, and you bloody _know _James and Lily—how can you do this to them? Don't you know that you're condemning them to death?!"

Arabella grew silent, her gaze turning inward as memories that she tried in vain to squash down washed over her as they had every evening in her dreams since that terrible, terrible night five years ago during the beginning of the war.

"Oh, be careful David!" A younger version of herself, idealistic and naïve leaned over to kiss her fiancé.

_He grinned at her cockily, twinkling emeralds glowing with silent mirth. "Aren't I always?" He then disappeared, off to complete another mission as he always did._

_Only this one was different._

_It was the last time she saw him alive._

_There had been an ambush, he had been captured. She had begged her commander to send out a search party for them, but procedure did not allow it. By the time they reached him, he was gone._

_She still recalled how she had felt when she was given the news that she would never see her love again. That they would never laugh together, never cry together. How they would never get married, never have kids, never grow old together, as their whispered promises had always pledged. _

_It was a terrible ache that radiated from deep inside her chest, nearly consuming her. It had not waned since and she was ascertained that it never would_

Could she really condemn others to the same cruel fate?

******************************************************************************

"What?" James asked incredulously as he gaped at the boy. "You…**can't**?" His voice rose in anger. "You can kill innocent women and children, join Voldemort, the spawn of the devil, disown your own _BROTHER_ but you _CAN'T _torture a rebel?" 

Regulus flinched visibly. "But…" He sputtered, desperately seeking compassion in the hard hazel eyes. "I…I _know _you." 

He still recalled when the older boy would bring laughter to the dark halls of his house before he and his brother had started Hogwarts. James was always kind to him, always allowed him to tag along when he and Sirius pulled pranks. However, when James and Sirius had left for Hogwarts, there was a huge uproar between Sirius and his parents, especially when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor. Sirius and James rarely, if ever, were at his house. They left him alone. With them.

With so much time of only his parents' words ringing in his ears, what could he have done but believed them? 

James snorted, disgusted. "And that really makes a difference? War isn't all fun and games Regulus."

Regulus stayed silent, and James sighed and turned again. "Stop being an idiot, already, Regulus. Hurry up and get it over with."

"No." The word was softly spoken, but it held defiance and pride. There was a light in his blue eyes that had not been there for a long, long, time, and James was suddenly reminded of the mischievous little boy that Regulus had once been.

"Listen, Regulus, this is really noble of you and all, but you have to do this, Voldemort will torture _you_ if you don't, and you need to stay alive, you idiot!"

"No." After saying yes so many times, after giving in so many times to things that he knew were not right, this word brought relief to his soul, and he reveled in the sheer power that it held.

James growled quietly to himself, realizing with a touch of wry humor how utterly idiotic this was of him. Honestly, begging to be tortured! "Regulus…"

"I won't, and you can't make me. I'll stop being a Death Eater, I swear I will and I'll join the Aurors, I'd be useful, I swear I would! That is, if you'd have me…"

Hazel eyes gazed searchingly into the sincere, desperate pale blue that bore into him. There was slight plea for redemption in those eyes, and he could sense neither malice nor deception. He dropped his gaze and smiled at him.

"I have a much better idea than that…you could serve some use in the Order, if you'd be willing to take risks that would jeopardize your life and could cause you severe bodily harm…"

Cerulean eyes lit up, and he answered, as seriously as he could, "I'd do it."

James grinned. "Good, you have to be slightly nutters as well, and since you agreed to the terms listed above, you are definitely a loony…Well then, this is all very peachy, but you're going to _have to torture me!_"

A stricken expression answered him. "I _can't._"

"Argh!"

"Listen, I'll just have to explain to Voldemort that you're a pureblood and-"

"Don't be a fool!" James hissed. "He'll kill you on the spot for disobeying his orders!"

The door suddenly swung open, banging into the wall behind it with a crash and they both jumped slightly. From the doorway, a voice drawled, "Indeed."

******************************************************************************

"This is the traitor my Lord."

Regulus was shoved in front of the throne that Voldemort was sitting in, and crumbled to the ground.

"Tell me, Black, I hear that you are betraying me to join Dumbledore's side…I assume that it is not true. For you know what we do to traitors."

"Yes, m-my Lord."

Voldemort raised a thin eyebrow slightly. "Yes, you know what we do to traitors, or yes, you are confirming the rumor?"

"B-both sir."

Voldemort's eyes flashed. "Wrong answer."

Regulus scrambled to his feet as a sense of pride swept over him. He was oddly calm, though his heart hammered in his chest, and he knew, with sudden clarity that he was going to die. But if this was truly the end, then he would die proudly. Honorably. Like his brother would have.

"My lo- Voldemort. Your order is for a stupid cause, and I was a git for joining your ranks. I have chosen to resign from the Death Eaters permanently."

Voldemort gave a bark of laughter. "Very well then, boy. I shall grant you your wish. AVADA KEDAVARA!"

There was a flash of light, and Regulus crumbled to the ground as life left him, a permanent, triumphant smile twitching the corners of his lips. 

Outside, it began to rain fiercely from the heavens as the angels wept bitterly at the injustice of the loss. 

******************************************************************************

James was thrown into the cell and groaned as the impact with the hard floor jostled his various injuries. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in calming breaths as deep as his cracked ribs would allow. 

After a few minutes of composing himself, he opened his eyes again. "Lily…" He whispered, turning his pounding head to where she still lay slumbering. Slowly, inch-by-inch, he managed to drag himself over where to she was.

Her features were at peace, and he smiled tenderly as he gently pushed a crimson lock behind her ear. Darkness crept across his vision as the adrenaline quickly drained out him so that he was spent. He slumped over her, landing on her stomach as he succumbed to the comforting pull of unconsciousness. __

"Lily…" He breathed, the word nothing more but a small exhalation riding on the labored huff of air. "Lily…"

******************************************************************************

_Lily…_

Lily scrunched up her nose in confusion as she stopped in the middle of the forest. Sunshine glittered through the canopy of trees and small birds chirped happily to one another. She was content. She stood still for a couple of moments, and she shrugged. Just when she was going to continue on her way—

_Lily…_

There it was again.

The voice was soft, and the redheaded witch had to struggle to hear it as it rode upon the wind. She could not place the name to the voice that called for her. It was slightly desperate, pained, yet tender and loving. 

_Lily…_

Emerald eyes widened. That was James! She was sure of it now. Her keen gaze searched the forest, but she could find no trace of him. The forest noise had stopped, and she found herself at a fork in the road. 

In one path, there lay peace and happiness and love.

In the other, there lay shallow feelings, and a war that she knew she could never win. 

For who could ever win the war of loneliness?

There were two paths—one bright and shining, the other, slightly darkened, filled with uncertainty and trials of suffering.

She chose the darker path, the path that had peace with herself, happiness, and love.

She chose life. 

She chose _James_.

For when given the choice between heaven and hell, what crazy loon would choose hell? (1)

(1) I apologize, but I believe I've read this line somewhere, and I cannot remember from where. If I did, (and I'm pretty sure I did) I sincerely apologize and I can only be content with telling readers that this line is not of my own brilliance, but of someone else's. I hope to find the author and give them due credit.

A/N: You guys are brilliant! I actually got over 300 reviews! *Gasps in shock and begins to hyperventilate* I really can't believe it, but I'm incredibly grateful. You are all very, very kind! I live off reviews, so please keep on sending them! ^_^ And as your reward, here you go—this chapter was nearly three times as long as my usual ones—I found it fitting, you know, three, three hundred—yes, no? Okay, moving on….Please review!

Congragulations to two of my reviewers, Ingenious and mooncancer for guessing Regulus! Wow! (If anybody else guessed, and I missed them, I'm sorry, and congrats to you too!)

Ne, and Emily, I didn't exactly understand your question. Do you mean how do your publish your work here on FF.N? Please clarify in your review, and I'll answer it for you!


	13. Hour 13: Hour of Missing In Action

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 13: Hour of Missing-In-Action

"This is what missing-in-action means, means there's not enough to find to bury you really." ~Loren Morgan.

Lily made her choice.

Emerald eyes opened slowly, blinking to clear her hazy vision. As her eyesight adjusted to the poor lighting, the crimson-haired witch took in her surrounding. Her memories flooded back, and she grinned wryly.

Had she truly left peace only to be confronted with this?

She had left the darkness for some reason that she could not fathom, and it resided teasingly at the edge of her conscious. 

It was then that she noticed the unusual weight that was draped across her. She grunted as she attempted to sit up, but she could not see what was keeping her down.

Her feather light touch gently moved the unruly black hair aside to keep it from obscuring his features.

To her fascinated horror, the crumbled, battered body was that of James Harold Potter—the one, that only hours prior, she had started to consider a friend. Lily finally gasped, her emerald orbs growing wide with shock as the deep crimson stained her robes, the vital liquid flowing out of him rapidly.

Much too rapidly.

"JAMES!"

******************************************************************************

_Could she really condemn another to the same cruel fate?_

Arabella finally came out of her thoughts to the sight of Sirius still ranting and raging in her office, while Remus stood quietly by.

"We will be leaving, Arabella. With or without your consent." Remus warned as his sharp gaze met hers. 

"You _will _send a rescue party out, Figg, damn it! I don't care about bloody procedure; I care about my friends' lives! Send out a search party, and do it now!"

"Okay."

"And another thing!" Sirius continued to rage, "We will-" The ebony-haired wizard blinked, stopping in mid-tirade. "O-okay?"

Arabella rolled her eyes at the dumbfounded look that dominated the features of both the two that stood before her.

"Yes, Black. I gave my consent to have a search party organized. As of now, James and Lily are both missing-in-action."

Sirius was still for a moment, before he gave a loud whoop and bolted for the door. Remus followed at a much more sedate pace, and turned to give his superior a last word.

The older woman was staring at the fires, lost in memories from long ago. Remus knew he had no place intruding, and withdrew from the room. "Thank you," He whispered quietly, and shut the door, leaving her to her thoughts.

******************************************************************************

Peter's eyes were narrowed into slits as he overheard the conversation going on between two wizards that were wandering outside of his doorway.

"I hear that they're got a whole search party already commissioned, and Figg even approved of it!"

"Probably would have gone anyway, don't you think?"

"Yeah," The other laughed. "But I must say that this must make it easier for them. I hope they find Potter and Evans…I always liked those two."

There was a sigh. "We can only hope."

The two men continued on their way, and Peter stared at the ceiling above him. So they were already on their way to rescue James and Evans, were they? Well, it was no skin off his nose if they got caught by the Dark Lord.

Deep in his heart, however, a tiny voice disagreed, but it was locked up, as it always was, away from his heart.

'No skin off my nose indeed…' 

******************************************************************************

"Damn it, Potter, what did they do to you?" Lily questioned, but received no answer from the unconscious man. And although she would have been grateful to see his sparkling eyes once again, she knew, that with injuries so severe as these, that it was no small mercy to be in the land of oblivion.

"Stupid, stupid man!" She muttered angrily to herself, as she tore her robe into ribbons to provide bandages. She shivered in the cool night, her muggle clothing doing little to keep her warm. 

She continued to mutter to herself, but her fury was not targeted towards the man that lay in front of her. Her feather light touch brought moans of agony that he could not quell in his current state. Lily tore off more of her robe to staunch the bleeding from his multiple abrasions and lacerations.

Bruises mottled his form, so that there were more purple bruises and crimson blood to his skin then there was undamaged flesh. She winced as she came into view of the thin lashes that crisscrossed over his chest and back that still oozed blood.

Fury at the injustice was pushed down for this was neither time nor place. Anger would not help James in his current condition.

So instead, she gently nursed to as many wounds as she could, ignoring the tug that wrenched at her heart. His face, lax in sleep, was strangely vulnerable, more so without his glasses that usually graced his face. 

He twisted in the throes of a nightmare, his face settling into a grimace of agony and pain. Lily stayed with him throughout the horrible dreams that plagued him, murmuring soothing words into his ear. 

James quieted, and Lily silently and fiercely swore to herself that she would not allow this-this injustice!- to occur again. And she vowed revenge on all those who had tortured, the person who had managed to creep his way into her hardened heart. 

******************************************************************************

 Remus stared unseeingly into oblivion as he watched the search party prepare for what they might need. The hustle and bustle was lessened in his ears, nothing more but a dull roar that emitted in the background.

A strong hand clasped his shoulder, and concerned blue eyes peered at him. He did not turn from his position, but gave a sigh and a low welcome.

"What is it, Moony?"

"Did you hear what she said? Missing-in-action." His voice was soft, emotionless.

Sirius winced, for he and every other soldier in this god-forsaken war knew the euphemism precisely for what it was. It meant simply, that they had not found the rotting carcass quite yet. His grip tightened on Remus' shoulder, and he stared at the ground.

Softly Sirius murmured, "We'll find them, Remus. We will."

Remus heaved another sigh, and stared up at the darkening sky. The moon was overcast with the darkened clouds, but a few lone stars peeked through the blanket of darkness, bringing hope to the mortals on earth.

And hope was something he was in need of quite badly at the moment.

Turning, Remus gave Sirius a weary, determined smile as he glanced up at the twinkling stars once again. "Yes, Padfoot. We shall."

A/N: Ne, sorry about the mistakes, but I'm sleepy and I want to post. Thanks for the reviews, and please continue to do so!


	14. Hour 14: Hour of Words

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 14: Hour of Words

"Sticks and stones may break our bones, but words will break our hearts." ~Robert Fulghum (1937—)

James whimpered, a strangled mew that tore Lily's heart, her chest and throat tight as she attempted to dress his wounds. Blackish water had been provided for them, and Lily's throat was parched, but she dared not drink the foul looking water. She would have preferred not to touch it at all, but in this matter, she had little choice. 

She could risk infection by using the water.

Or she could guarantee infection by not using it.

She chose to risk it, and prayed to Merlin that she had not made a horrible mistake. Sweat covered his brow, and Lily gently dipped a strip of cloth in the water and laid it across his forehead. He was lost in the clutches of a nightmare, much as she had been, but she dared not to wake him, leaving him to his much needed healing slumber.

She murmured soothing words as she bandaged and re-bandaged the many wounds he had sustained. Her fury was smoldering inside of her slowly, but she did not grant it leave to the surface. She glanced down to his face once again, and was surprised to see dull amber squinting up at her.

******************************************************************************

Sirius peeked into the darkened room and quickly closed the door. He turned to the figure that was leaning against the wall, and said quietly, "Pete's asleep."

"It must be the after-effects of the Cruciatus. Do you think that he'd want us to wake him up?"

Sirius smiled fondly, but shook his head. "Pete's always doing things like that, bumbling in, and trying to help every way he can. I'm know that he really is worried about James, and wants to be involved in the search party, but still…"

Remus smiled at him. "Yes, of course. Peter's still under the curse's effects, and we cannot lose valuable time. I believe that the search party is nearly ready. Shall we go?"

"Yes. We'll let Peter rest."

******************************************************************************

James groaned inwardly, hissing as he moved his head to stare at the vision before him. A ruby-haired vixen was above him, and he blinked, automatically reaching for his glasses. He fumbled only with empty air however, and it was then he realized she was speaking—the angel was speaking, but he could not comprehend the words at first.

"James," The beauty was speaking, and after every second ticked by, her voice got clearer and more defined. "James, please, wake up a bit…just a little bit more…"

'Lily' He realized numbly. Honestly, what did she want him to wake up for? Did she want to torture him? Well, that was a stupid question, of course she did. Because staying awake made him notice all the aches that burned his body and it hurt. It hurt like hell. No, hell had nothing on this. Every nerve was on fire. His body betrayed him, and he let loose a low gasp. 

"Easy, easy now, Potter. Don't do anything stupid. Don't move."

James snorted. "And where exactly would I go? Oh look, there's a nice patch of dirt. I think I'll just drag myself over there and lie on that instead."

Lily sighed, but it was more that of relief than true irritation. His wisecracks were something she craved, something that gave her stability when her world was topsy-turvy. "Shut it, Potter, you know what I mean."

"Oh yes, I have an incredible ability to read minds, you see. That's what made me so popular with the ladies."

Lily snorted as she bandaged another wound, rather angry at the mention of his past exploits. "What ladies?"

"Come, come, now, Lily. My charm was extremely well-known throughout the school." The proudly uttered words were a jest, but Lily did not catch them.

"Charm? What charm?" Lily gave a discriminating laugh, "You were just a git with an over-inflated head, thinking that you were better than everyone else. You strut around like a peacock just because you happened to play Quidditch!"

Thick silence hung over the air, and James stared up at the ceiling. Quietly, oh so quietly, he uttered, "Is that what you really think of me?"

"Yes!"

James sighed, closing his eyes, and muttered, "I had hoped…" He trailed off and turned to his side, his back towards the witch who was staring hard at the ground.

"Hoped what?" Lily ventured softly.

"That we could have been friends…I…I rather foolishly believed that we could after the conversation we had before…" 

"James…" Lily started, regretting her words deeply, and she reached out to touch his shoulder. He gave a slightly bitter laugh and she flinched, her hand dropping to her lap once more. 

"Nothing but a fool's dream, I suppose."

"James—"

He cut her off with a weary sigh as he closed his pained eyes. "I'm tired now, Evans."

Lily stopped as she stared at his back, and silently withdrew to the shadows of the room. James exhaled as she left, the flashes of lightening lighting up the cell in brief moments, and the thunder and pounding of the rain slowly lulled him to sleep. 

_'I changed, Lily,' _He thought desperately, at the brink of sleep once more. _'That's what war does to you…I've finally grown up. Why are you the only one who doesn't realize that?'_

A/N: You guys rock! I mean, you really, really, really, REALLY rock! You guys pushed me past 400 reviews! WOW! *Faints in shock* Now, I would have made this chapter longer, but I have to get up early tomorrow morning, and this emotional scene with James and Lily took a lot out of me. So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please continue to review!


	15. Hour 15: Hour of Reconciliation

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 15: Hour of Reconciliation 

"Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not take

Towards the door we never opened

Towards the rose-garden." ~T.S. Eliot (1888-1965)

Lily sat, huddled in a corner, watching the wavering, even fall and rise of James' chest in his slumber. His breaths were raspy, and Lily was sure that he had cracked, or perhaps even broken a few ribs.

Her anger had faded as quickly as it had been triggered, doused and extinguished with the painfully spoken whisper of James. In its absence it left instead regret and remorse, and slightest twinge of guilt that was slowly germinating inside of her. Mentally reviewing the conversation, she realized the dry humor that he had spoken to her for what it was. But her words…

They were not made in light humor. They were made to be cutting, malicious, something that Lily despised in everyone else, but when it came to James…She was confused, confounded by the many rush of emotions that were associated with him, and him alone.

Her heart screamed at her when she saw his injuries, and it felt almost as if she was inflicted with them as well. Lily felt worry, anxiety, relief, and a comfortableness that frightened her. The foreign feeling was slowly growing in spite of her efforts to stop it, because it made her lose control.

And in this war-torn world, that and her pride were the most precious things that she could afford to keep. He was lying there, dozing, but not really asleep. She stared at his unusually silent form for what seemed like eternity before turning away. She had ruined it.

She had ruined a friendship that could have escalated into great heights, but she squashed it down before it could grow. She tried to be glad; she tried to be happy that she was still a soldier, still unattached to someone who could die at any given moment of the day. She wasn't stupid, and Lily knew that attachments in war were irrational, unreasonable.

But no matter how she tried to silence the whimpers in her heart, it would not be stifled. She was sick of being the reasonable one, sick of being the rational one. Too many times had she turned down opportunity after opportunity, challenge after challenge, chance after chance…all because of the fear of failure. All because of the fear of loving and losing.

The fear consumed her.

But the redheaded witch _wanted _to be irrational and unreasonable and fling her cares to wind. She _wanted_, for once in her existence, to live her life with the impulses and open choices that she had been given. She had been offered a friendship that could last a lifetime…

But that offer was gone. And she wasn't sure that it would ever knock on her door again.

******************************************************************************

"Is there anything?"

"…No. I don't see any trace of them, Sirius."

Sirius growled in frustration, as they searched the surrounding forest. The search group had fanned out in two's; carefully searching for anything that might lead them towards the missing Order members. So far, no one had found anything.

Sirius sighed irritably, as he glanced sourly at the sodden land beneath him. It had stopped raining momentarily, but the fresh smell in the air blocked any smells that might have been left behind, and dissolved any tracks. The heavy clouds also obscured his vision, as there was no light save the dim light of the lantern that Remus carried.

It was as if Lady Fate had indeed been meddling again in mortal affairs. And it seemed as if she was a woman scorned.

A scowl twisted Sirius' lips, staring up at the cloudy heavens, desperate for a lonely beacon of hope. 

But the clouds obscured everything from view. Their fortune was hazy, much like that of James and Lily's future. However even on the darkest of nights, a small star peeked out and shone its brilliance for all those who were seeking it.

******************************************************************************

James shifted, stifling a moan as even the slightest of movement brought a sharp stab of agony through the length of his body. He lay still for a moment, waiting for the pain to pass, and for the darkness to fade from his vision. He blinked up at the ceiling, and frowned. He truly did hate being without his glasses-it made him feel vulnerable, helpless.

Oh well, he couldn't say that he thought much of the décor anyway.

Lily had scrambled frantically from her position to his side as soon as she saw him shift. She sat back hesitantly on her haunches, nervously chewing on her lip. What was she to say? What was she to do?

She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and silence reared its head once again. She sat absolutely still as James continued to blink at the ceiling.

"Lily," James rasped.

Finally, Lily could stand it now longer. "I know what you're going to say, Potter. And I know I deserve it. But look, Pott—James…"

He turned expectantly to her, and she turned her head away, taking a deep breath before facing him again. Emerald met hazel, and she continued. "I-I know that I was a jerk, all right?"

"Lil-"

"No, no, hear me out." She took another deep breath. "I know I was a git, and a moron, and a prat, and I shouldn't have said the things I said to you, you don't know how much I regret them now-"

"Lily…"

"I want us to be friends, James," She said honestly, earnestly, "I really do, and anytime that I say something stupid like that, just knock me upside the head…so…what do you say?"

James was silent for a few moments, overwhelmed. 

Angrily, Lily's eyes flashed, and her face flushed from the emotion. "I was just being a jealous little witch, what else do you want me to say?"

James gave a small snort of laughter, trying desperately not to break into peals of mirth. "And to think, all this time I just wanted a drink of water."

Lily flushed a bright crimson to the roots of her hair. "Oh, well," She fumbled. "I don't think that you should really drink it, it's nasty stuff…"

James smiled at her, squinting up at her embarrassed features. "Don't worry about it Lily. I know that you didn't mean it. Lets just put it behind us, all right?" His face was suddenly drawn, weary. 

For who knew how much time lay before them? 

As soon as the expression was there, however, it disappeared, gone behind the jester's mask that he hid behind so well. Lily gave him a small, hesitant smile in response, and it slowly grew wider until it nearly lit the cell with its brightness.

James felt his own smile tugging at his lips. _I would do anything, Lils, anything, to get you to smile like that at me all the time…_

Lily's smile lessened somewhat, becoming gentler. "I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness, but please, James. I…I—"

The cell door creaked open once more, and the two in the cell were immediately alert and tense. They blinked at the sudden light that was emitted from the doorway, and slowly the being that stood in front of them was recognizable. Even to James, who could not see anything more then a blob at the doorway recognized the almost tangible presence in the air, the feeling of utmost evil that made it hard to breathe.

If his scarlet eyes were indeed windows to his soul, then he did not have one. All that was left was the fiery malice and hate that reminded James and Lily to what hell must be like. Voldemort seemed unsurprised that Lily had awoken from her enchanted dream, but they looked past her and to the body that was sitting up on the makeshift cot.

"Evans. It seems that you chose to return to the land of the living once more. A choice, I'm sure, that you shall regret in the near future. However, you have some reprieve." He turned to James, eyes smoldering with fury. "You lost me a servant. And now, it is time to see that you pay for your defiance. Say goodbye Potter. You come with me."

A/N: Thank you to all my reviewers, you guys are awesome! IMPORTANT! I shall be out of the state for a week of vacation, with NO computer access. *Sighs* Which, of course means that I cannot update. I'm very sorry for this inconvenience, but I shall be back on the 1st! Please don't kill me! I'll be back, with an extra-extra long exciting chapter (we're finally getting to the good stuff!) I promise, unless I'm eaten by sharks or something…Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review!

Oh, and a note:

To those who wish to e-mail me personally, as a few have, it would really be helpful if you marked that it is for this story, because if I don't recognize the e-mail address and there is no title, then I automatically delete it. So please don't feel offended if I don't reply, because I may not have gotten it! Please add a title so that I'll read it! Thank you!


	16. Hour 16: Hour of Decisions

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 16: Hour of Decisions

"The truly brave are soft of heart and eyes, and feel for what their duty bids them do." ~Lord Byron (1788-1824)

Frigid, lifeless scarlet surveyed the room disdainfully, landing with disgust at the figures that were huddled together. Disregarding Lily completely, he stared past her and spoke to James who had weakly pushed himself up onto his elbows. Lily's mouth was hanging slightly open in shock, eyes huge with surprise and terror. James was pale, but his mouth was a grim line of defiance and his eyes were hard.

Oh, how Voldemort hated that defiance. Defiance in his eyes that would never die, no matter how tortured the body was. Voldemort was indeed looking forward to the moment in which that defiance would be snuffed out of that body. It was a pleasure that he would partake in personally.

"You should be honored, Potter. It is quite rare that I spend so much time on any prisoner. But you…you are a special case. You shall be my public example to the wizarding community so they know exactly what will happen to those defy me. And then when I destroy the man he looks to as a son, then perhaps Dumbledore shall realize that he shall _never _win." He smiled with pleasure then, if that's what one could call the horrifying twist of lips that brought a cold jolt of fear through the prisoner's spines.

"No!"

Startled out of his reverie, crimson eyes glanced at witch that was glaring at him, stubbornness written on her attractive features. She stood straight and tall, proudly looking at Voldemort in the eye. 

"No?" Voldemort drawled, staring at her with cold amusement.

"I—I won't let you!" She scooted a little bit closer to the battered form of the wizard that lay at her feet. 

In an instant, he was in front of her, and Lily took an involuntary step back in alarm. "And what, you naïve child, could you possibly do to stop me?"

Lily regained her composure as she stared icily into Voldemort's horrid face, putrid breath reaching her nostrils and decaying features meeting her eyes. Her fingers twitched for her wand that had been taken. Voldemort did not miss the action, and smirked at her, irking Lily with the sheer smugness of it all.

"How about this, my little flower? I will be giving you both a choice. I will let you have the decision regarding your lives. You must choose which one of you shall live, and which one of you shall die. One will be the traitor and live; the other shall be the one who dies a miserable death as the hero. Which one will you choose?"

******************************************************************************

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Sirius cried, searching the darkened forest with desperation, cobalt eyes wild, and expression dark. "There's nothing bloody here!"

Remus sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stared up at the gray skies that threatened to break at any given moment. They had found nothing, it was true, and everyone was beginning to get a tad disheartened, for once the rain began, there would be nothing. The rain would wash away any footprints and scents that might have been left behind.

Funny how something so essential to life and wanted everywhere came exactly when and where it was not wanted. In general, Remus was one of those people who enjoyed rain. A person who enjoyed the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof, the rumbling thunder and beautiful lightening, and then the gentle, clean scent afterwards that left the earth renewed. It washed away the earth's troubles, washed away the sin of mankind.

It reminded him that even the foulest of creatures could be cleansed spiritually. But he prayed now, with all his might, that the rain would indeed wait for another day. 

For if it rained, they were doomed.

******************************************************************************

Shocked silence filled the room as the two stared at him with unadulterated horror.

"Well? Which one shall it be?" Voldemort hissed, glancing disinterestedly at them. "Hurry up now, this is an offer that shall expire soon if you don't give me an answer."

Lily opened and closed her mouth a few times without sound, creating a remarkable resemblance to a fish. 

"I'll do it." Her voice was calm, unwavering, and resolute. "Let James go."

"Lily, no-!"

Lily turned to James sharply, and hissed, "Shut it, you git! You've done all of _this_; you've gone through all of this all for me! Please, please allow me to repay the favor! Don't deny me this, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you took my place. Please James, _please_. I am ready to die, as any soldier should be, and I'll die at peace, I'll die willingly, if I know that you would live. Let me regain my honor, James. Let me go. I'm ready."

"But Lily!"

"No! I shall be the one to die. You have to understand, James. Please don't make this any harder than it already is."

"But…" The words died on his lips, and he turned away in shame. When he spoke, it was in harsh, low tones that rasped his throat with emotion. "And what about me? How do you expect _me_ to live, knowing I sent the girl I l-" he choked, "Knowing that I sent you to die? How?"

"James. I've made up my mind. I hope you'll understand one day." She stooped over and gave him a light kiss on his brow, ruffling the silky black strands through her fingers. James was pale, silent. In a whisper, she added, "You were a good friend…thank you."

Lily turned to Voldemort, shoulders back with pride and determination. "I shall be the one to die. You will let James go."

Voldemort sneered at her, features malicious with perverse delight. "You have reached your decision then? Very well. Potter shall die."

"What?! No! But you said-"

"Evans, you seem to have forgotten one very important detail. I am Lord Voldemort! And I show no mercy. You have condemned Potter to death with your noble acts of courage."

James gave a cry of agony before he stiffened, petrified, a look of abject resignation frozen upon his face. He was suspended in mid-air, and was calmly floated towards the door. 

Lily gave a shriek of anger, adrenaline rushing through her veins as she lunged at the creature, but he only laughed, a chilling, bitter laugh, and she was suspended in mid-air, bound by invisible chains. "Now, now, Evans. Your time shall come."

And with a bang, the cell door slammed shut, and the chains lost their grip. She lunged at the door, staring through the little bars at the figures that were getting smaller and smaller. A cry of pain crawled up her throat, tears flooded her eyes and emotion clutched her breast, making it difficult to breathe.

"James!" She sobbed, sinking to the floor. "Damn it, James…don't go…please don't go…"

******************************************************************************

"Remus!" Sirius cried joyously. "Remus, get your skinny arse over here!"

Remus sighed and jogged lightly over. "What is it now, Sirius?"

"My good man, look at this!"

Remus squinted at Sirius' seemingly empty hands, searching for whatever had made Sirius beam so proudly. At last a bit of light caught upon the long crimson lock, and it glinted gold in the faint light.

"By Merlin, is it--?"

"Yes, you git, it is! Lily's hair! It isn't much, but at least we know that they were around this area." Sirius set out, rejuvenated with hope, in search of any clues. And there—there! There was the faintest impression of footprints!

"Come on, Moony! We'll save them yet!"

******************************************************************************

They were probably dead.

At least, that's what Peter told himself. It was of little use to dwell on and mourn their passing when it was he who had condemned them to that fate.  

And Remus and Sirius…they were most likely scouring the entire forest for a clue, a hint, _anything. _But Peter knew that they wouldn't find it. Idly, he entertained the notion of helping them find the lair, helping them defeat Voldemort—

But the thought was quickly banished from his mind as reality set in. Voldemort would kill him if he double-crossed him, and it would not be a pleasant death. Peter was not ready to make such a decision so that his own skin would be at risk.

He had learned one thing in this entire bloody war.

Make no ties, no true loyalties until you were sure which side was strongest, which one was sure to win. 

Survival of the fittest. 

And Peter would do anything—_anything _to make certain that he was the fittest.

******************************************************************************

Oh, wasn't this just peachy.

James was rather frustrated as of late because of the sheer and utter helplessness he had felt in the past few hours. He was completely immobile, suspended in the air at the mercy of Voldemort with dark blobs—Death Eaters, he presumed, as he squinted a bit, flanking his sides. He was marching, rather, floating, to the gallows, and there was little he could do about it.

He had believed that he had banished the fear of dying from his mind, but there was still that twinge of fright, soon pushed down and replaced instead by grim determination.

How life had changed since the days of Hogwarts.

In Hogwarts, up to his fifth year, everything had been about himself, and only himself. He was a naïve moron, and life seemed so rich back then. He was untouchable. Death was a concept, a theory, that did not apply to himself. He had had a rather rude awakening. A lot had changed since those times.

He knew, with utter certainty that was to die, and felt only two emotions—determination and remorse.

Grim determination because if he was to die, then he would die like a man _should_ die. His back would be straight and his features proud.

Remorse because of all the things that he would never be able to do, of things that he would never be able to _say_. There was so much left, but he supposed that time waited for no one. He had missed his one and only chance, and it was gone. 

Never to return.

But he accepted his fate, more of less. He was going to die, but he was going to die fighting.

He would die with honor.

******************************************************************************

"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" Lily growled, pounding on the door angrily. "You can't die on me Potter, not until I say I'm sorry!"

She had screamed herself hoarse, calling for help, for justice, and then, when that did not work, cursing all of the Death Eater's mothers. She pounded on the door more slowly now, her head leaning upon the hard wood, resting. Her hands were bleeding with splinters, but still she persisted.

"No, no, no—"

_Clink._

She stopped, and froze, before she hissed, in absolute amazement, "_-yes_."

The door creaked open slowly.

In the distance, a pale figure slinked back into the shadows, his dark Death Eaters robes caressing the darkness. And in his hands, there was a glint of silver as the light caught upon the cell's keys.

A/N: I'm back! And I didn't get eaten by sharks or alligators (although I did get to see an alligator up close and personal). Thank you for all your kind reviews, you people ROCK! Over 500—wowie! Well, I'm home now, so expect frequent updates. Action (real action) is coming up soon. I know that this chapter isn't truly very long, but it is longer than usual, and I do have the rest of the chapters outlined the way I want them. So please review, this chapter was fun to write!


	17. Hour 17: Hour of Stupidity

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 17: Hour of Stupidity

"If it's stupid but works, it ain't stupid." ~Murphy's Laws for Grunts

Severus Snape slithered away from the cell, quickly, silently walking to where Voldemort was to perform his ceremony. He had been frightened—truly _terrified_ when his shaking hand had unlocked the cell door. But now, oddly enough, he felt only calm. A soothing sort of tranquility, and a bitter sense of triumph that was unfamiliar in these sinister ages.

These emotions that stirred within him were strange, for they had laid dormant for the better part of the war.

His thoughts were in a turmoil, but he knew one thing, and one thing only. He would not, _could _not let Lily die. 

She had always been kind to him, always defended him. They had been friends, once, long ago, before Voldemort had risen into power. They had met on the train, and had bonded immediately, staying the best of friends throughout first year, and ignoring the invisible barriers between their two very separate houses.

But somehow on the way, he had drifted away from her, drifted away from all his problems at school and at home by listening to and following the sweet, candy-coated words of Voldemort and his followers. Lily had stubbornly held on for many years afterwards, and Severus had done nothing except discourage her.

She was, after all, a mudblood.

Just a stupid little mudblood who never teased him. A stupid little mudblood who always spoke her mind. A beautiful, stupid, little mudblood that would die for a wrong that she had not committed.

Just a stupid little mudblood.

 But for some reason, even after all his conditioning during the time in which he had joined Voldemort's ranks, he could not condemn Lily for her birth, and in truth, she was the best witch that he had ever had the fortune of meeting.

Perhaps there was still time for redemption. He had done things that, upon reflection, made his skin crawl and his stomach churn. They were not things that he was proud of.

But Lily had been kind to him through even the darkest of times. Perhaps now it was time to return the favor.

******************************************************************************

It was impossible.

It was absolutely and positively impossible. This was the sort of thing that only happened in picture books and fairytales.

The door, according to the rules of damnanation, could _not _be _open_.    

Lily held her breath in anticipation and in irrational hope as she quietly pushed the dungeon door forward. It opened a sliver with an immensely loud creak, and Lily winced, and recoiled. An emerald eye peered out, and searched the abandoned hallway.

The fire from the torches cast eerie shadows upon the floor and the walls as the flames flickered and danced. But there was no sign of life.

She scanned the hallway again, but her keen eyes could discern no one in the shadows. For a moment, she entertained the thought that it was all an elaborate ruse, but she quickly banished it from her mind. Even if it was a ruse, there was nothing she could lose. Not anymore.

Silently, with stealth that would have made her instructors at the Auror Academy proud, she crept through the hallways, blending into the darkest and deepest shadows. She did not stop, though she had little idea of where she was. Anywhere would be better than the hellish room that she had just left.

She was in a corridor now, and she gasped involuntarily as she saw the décor that graced the walls. 

Heads—_human_ heads adorned the gray, concrete walls, mounted and stuffed. (1) They were displayed proudly, and were like the animal heads she had seen displayed in so many muggle homes. 

The emerald-eyed witch recoiled, nearly vomiting. Their frozen faces were twisted in agony, their sightless gazes staring at her accusingly, demanding to know where she had _been_ while they were killed. Why she hadn't helped them. 

Why she lived while they did not. 

Her stomach clenched, and the redheaded woman swore that she heard the echoes of their dying screams in her ears.

As a child, she had often heard of the serial murders that plagued England All the muggles' heads were decapitated, and all that had been left at the scenes of the crimes were their headless bodies. The police had been absolutely baffled by it, and they had never found any clues, nor caught the murderer.

She ducked her head, and kept her eyes trained on the ground. 

Now she knew why. 

Her sharp hearing detected no one save herself, and it was then that she could contain herself no longer. She fled; her footsteps light but quick, desperate to escape those blank, accusing eyes.

******************************************************************************

_Agony_.

Agony seared through his every nerve, his every vein, his every pore and it _burned_ with a fire that he could not extinguish. The crickets were singing loudly in the distance, and he could hear nothing save the rushing roar in his ears and their damned chirping.

The beast of the unbearable fire crawled up his throat, digging its claws deep in its desperation to escape. 

To bring James release. 

He resisted for a moment, before he relinquished his control. He opened his mouth to liberate the raging creature, but no sound came out. The beast stayed in his throat and in his chest, and he could not expel it. Only the sickening hissing sound when he drew breath was heard. There was _no escape_.

No _release_.

And the crickets grew silent in honor of the dying prisoner. For it was cruel to flaunt the freedom that they had when another did not.

******************************************************************************

It was inevitable. It was bound to happen, as dictated by Murphy's Law that everything that could happen at the worst possible moment _would_.

Damn Murphy to Hell.

It rained. Remus was, with the utmost certainty, sure that the very gods were against them. It seemed to be like a game, and he himself one of the players, tormented for their sick amusement.

Hope had been achieved for a single, beautiful moment, and then it was snatched away as quickly as it had been received. They had found one clue, yes—Lily's hair. And with her hair they were able to find, courtesy of Padfoot, a single clearing in which there was evidence of a struggle.

But now…

Now…

All the tracks had disappeared. Every single shred of evidence had been washed away—every footprint, every track…all gone. And with it, their hope. 

******************************************************************************

Wonderful.

Absolutely bloody **peachy**.

Laughter bubbled to his lips, devoid of any trace of mirth. _'What a way to die,'_ He thought humorlessly to himself. _'I always thought it would be in the blaze of battle, dying a glorious death and taking every one of those sons-of-a-bitches with me.'_

But no. His plans were turning out to be slightly skewed in nature.

He was going to die prone at Voldie's feet, he was willing to bet. He didn't have the energy or the resources to die facing him like a man. 

No glorious death in battle. 

He was just slowly going to waste away, bit-by-bit, until Voldemort had the mercy to finish him off. 

This was certainly not what James had had in mind when pondering about his death on those lonely nights after a battle. He wasn't ready to die—after all, what crazy loon really ever was? But at least, he consoled himself, he knew he was going to die saving a life. A life of a woman that he…cared for immensely.

That was reason enough. 

But he'd be damned if he left without his dignity.

******************************************************************************

Severus Snape watched the redhead retreat in the shadows. 

He could do no more. It was up to her to find her way out.

Snape stared at the heads that Lily had been so repulsed by. He had grown used to their presence, scorned and mocked their deaths, even. Now, however, there was a sickening sensation as he looked at them.

He couldn't even count how many were there because of his hand.

Perhaps he couldn't help Lily directly. But he could find those who could.

******************************************************************************

"Damn it, Remus!" Sirius cried despairingly as he glared at the rain with his furious gaze. "How in the hell do we find them now!?"

Remus shook his head, staring into the woods, equally frustrated. "I…I don't know, Padfoot," He said softly.

And then, from the deepest of shadows came, "I can show you the way."

Sirius turned in an instant, his eyes wild, and with astonishing speed, had Severus pinned against a tree.

Though startled at the display of inhuman speed, Severus simply started at Sirius with a bored, dry look

"What did you say?!" Sirius snarled, pushing him harder against the tree, eyes menacing. The tree began to crack from underneath the pressure.

Icily, Severus stated, "Let me go, Black. Are you deaf as well as stupid? I can lead you to your pathetic comrades."

 "Damn you, you Death Eater!" He roared, "Stop lying!"

Angry onyx eyes glared at him from underneath matted, dripping black hair. "Listen," Severus snapped, face flushed. "Do you want to find Evans and Potter, or don't you?"

A calming hand was placed on Sirius' shoulder, and he turned to see Remus standing there imploringly. Sirius grunted, and quickly stepped back, releasing Snape as if the brief contact had burned his flesh.

"All right," Sirius muttered. "You've got ten seconds, Snape. Make it good."

******************************************************************************

Lily's pounding footsteps across the cold stone floor slowed, then halted altogether as she glanced behind herself, and then to the door that led to the outside world. 

Behind her lay James, and with him, agony and certain death. 

In front of her lay freedom. Life.

Could she really forsake her comrade to save her own skin?

What was she supposed to do? Double back and save a man that she had just recently begun to like? Or save herself from a horrifying demise and live another day? 

Lily tried to tell herself that she owed Potter nothing. Tried to tell herself that James H. Potter meant nothing to her. 

She continued to repeat the thought to herself. And perhaps if she continued to tell herself that, then maybe she'd believe it.

Rational thought had long ceased to exist, and panic had taken control. It was impossible to think about anything other than what was happening in the _here_ and _now_, and Lily was dictated by her feelings. Her mind was not in control any longer, for her heart had seized the fortress and was in power.

It was unusual.

As a soldier, she had constantly been drilled into not following her emotions, for they could deceive you and get you killed.  As a child growing up in a war-torn world, she had never believed any differently and had little trust in feelings, because feelings, in her young mind, had always been connected to pain. Lily had never entertained the thought that emotions would ever cloud her judgment. 

But she realized that in reality, emotions hadn't clouded her judgment at all. They had just made the choice clearer.

The answer was simple, really. This was war, after all.

But it was also life.

She ran.

******************************************************************************

 "Potter…" His name was hissed, and he looked up through blurred vision to the cold leering face of his foe, and then turned away again, staring with morbid fascination at the crimson that was slowly staining the red carpet beneath him.

Voldemort scowled, and grabbed him by the roots of his hair and _pulled. _James gasped in pain, as he was suddenly eye-to-eye with the creature. Voldemort leaned in, so that he spoke directly into James' ear. The foul words tickled his ear and froze his heart in trepidation.

"I'm going to kill you Potter."Came the softly spoken words, "But not right away. Oh no. You see, you're Dumbledore's favorite little boy. I'mgoing to_ enjoy _yourdeath_, Potter." _What frightened him the most, however, was the promising leer that adorned his capturer's face.

Without thinking, the words slipped out of his mouth like water, and James watched as disgust and anger twisted Voldemort's face. "You will never be greater than Dumbledore…"

Voldemort released James, sending him crumbling to the floor, and James could not help but cry out in surprise. There was rancous laughter from the crowd, and they spun as the world tilted dangerously.

The creature turned to address the mob, and he spoke with passion and hate as he spurred them all along. "This—this is the fabled James Potter! The one who has eluded me twice! The famous, uncatchable, unmatchable, and death-defying James Potter, as the media likes to say. The man with nine lives." He kicked the prone body at his feet, and James groaned as he felt another rib crack. "Doesn't look like he's altogether that uncatchable to me…I suppose they'll want to write that on his tombstone, won't they?"

The crowd roared in approval.

"This man—this one trice-damned-man, is the one who has killed so many in our ranks! The one who feeds your brothers lies in order to convert them over to his dirty side! He disgraces the name of Purebloods!

"And this man," Voldemort sneered in disgust. "Is in LOVE with a bloody MUDBLOOD!"

The mob jeered and cried out in disgust.

"Now GENTLEMEN! WHAT DOES THIS MAN—THIS MUDBLOOD LOVER, THIS TRAITOR TO OUR KIND—_DESERVE _FOR THESE DISGUSTING CRIMES?!"

The horde of Death Eaters answered as one, in an enormously deafening howl.

"DEATH! DEATH! DEATH!" 

******************************************************************************

This was stupidity. Sheer and utter stupidity. 

Why was she doing this? Why was she risking her own life to save Potter's? Emotions were funny things.

Because…Because I…I… 

And they were meant to be pondered another day.

******************************************************************************

I'm going to die.

The revelation was startlingly coherent in his drifting mind, as he stared at Death in the face through lidded eyes. The chants for his death were ringing all around him, in a massive, spinning bellow.

He found, to his slight surprise, that he didn't care. _I don't care if I die, anything would be better than this—this is true hell, I want…I want…I want peace, I want to stop the HURT and the PAIN and I already did all that I could have done, I don't want to keep this charade up any longer I don't want to keep fighting for every breath for the rest of my life, I just want…I just want…I don't know what I want…I don't care anymore…_

This revelation was a bit strange, for he had always scorned those who gave up and died, he had always resented them, deep down, and he had sworn—_sworn_—that he would never die like that._ That he would never give up._

It was harder than it looked, fighting for tomorrow.

The revelation came sharply, and he marveled at it absently.

_…I…I…**want**…to die…_

******************************************************************************

"Hullo there, chap." Lily grinned.

The Death Eater opened his mouth to sound the alarm, then stopped, giving Lily a suggestive leer as he ran his eyes up and down her figure. "Hello, _Poppit_."

Lily mentally grimaced, but gave him a sultry, beckoning pout. "I'm sorry, but it seems that I've…" She gave an exaggerated, seductive wink, "…lost my way. I don't suppose that you'd help me find it, would you?"

The Death Eater licked his lips.

Lily gritted her teeth, feeling very much like a piece of meat. _This is necessary, James is worth it, this is necessary, James is worth it…_

"Well?" She purred, as she slinked up to him so that they were barely inches apart. The Death Eater's breathing grew faster as she draped her hands across his neck. He smirked at her expectantly. 

Lily smiled back, and then his eyes grew wide with surprise and he slumped into her arms, unconscious. Lily released the pressure points and looked disdainfully at the man that lay before her. 

The redheaded witch snorted. "That's what you get for being a chauvinistic, perverted male pig."

******************************************************************************

Lily took a deep breath. This was it. It was incredibly idiotic, and bordering on the line of moronic, even. It had crossed the line of stupidity long, _long_ ago, and was now happily residing in a land which at any other time would have landed her in the loony hospital. There was not a word in the English language that could describe her absolute damned daftness adequately. She could hear every professor in the academy for Aurors scolding her for her utmost confounded logic. The plan was very much worthless. Unwise, rash, and foolhardy. And there was a very, _very_ high chance of death.

Nervously, she adjusted the hood of the Death Eater's mask upon her face and glanced at the man that lay unconscious in the small cell. She glanced at her attire, and deemed herself worthy to commence

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door…

…And strolled casually into Voldemort's chambers.

******************************************************************************

James was drifting. Unbidden, bits and snatches of the Hogwarts song that he had sung since his first year floated gently in his mind. _'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts…'_

He remembered his first year. He was cocky, nervous, scared out of his wits. And it was on his first day that he met Lily Evans…

…By pushing her in the lake.

She had just laughed, and smiled. War had not yet stolen away her innocence. It was on that first day that he fell in love with Lily Marie Evans.

_Teach us something please,_

Hogwarts had taught him so many things. _Dumbledore_ had taught him so many things. 

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

He had been young. Naïve. Cocky. But Dumbledore had put up with all his exploits and pranks, smiling. He had always laughed, and said, "Let them be children."

And James could have sworn that he had once heard Dumbledore say quietly as he turned away, "They'll lose their innocence soon enough."

He had dismissed it then.

But James knew what he meant now.

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

He had learned with ease everything that the teachers had ever taught him. Outside of the school, he had learned cruelty, hate and malice.

James was dumped on the floor and dragged to his feet upon the cold stone, but James was unresisting, limp, as he tried to grasp his scattered thoughts.

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

Voldemort was speaking to him once again now, malicious eyes gleaming at him, but James could only see the taunt mouth moving, and could hear nothing in the rushing of his ears. He recalled the time when Voldemort had tried to recruit him. But James had turned down the offer, and instead had sided with the man that Voldemort hated the most, and the man that James looked to as a sort of foster father.

He was addressing the mob of Death Eaters that filled every available space in the capacious quarters. They cheered during his speech, but James paid them little mind.

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

Love. Joy. Friendship.

"Make him bleed!" One called out loudly.

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

Hope. Faith. Peace.

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

The Cruciatus. He could see Voldemort mouthing the curse slowly and felt the tingle slowly spread through his body right before it became unbearable, excruciating pain. Voldemort smiled cruelly, and James could hear him say faintly,

"Where's your precious Dumbledore now, Potter?"

_"Hogwarts…Hogwarts…Hoggy, warty…." _He smiled, and took pleasure in Voldemort's furious features while he sang brokenly, underneath his breath. They were his last coherent words for a while.

_….Hogwarts…_

And as the pain consumed him entirely, he saw out of the corner of his eye, another Death Eater slip into the room, unnoticed.

A/N: I'M SOOOOOOO SORRY! *Bows and grovels* I know I said that it would be two to three days, and I'm really sorry! But school started two weeks ago, and between homework and a LOT of extracurricular activities, well…. I'm truly, truly sorry, and I hope that this chapter makes up for it. TEN PAGES! WHOO-HOO!  Expect next chapter up on Monday. (I mean it this time!)

Special Thanks to:

Letalis: WOW! I loved the e-mail you sent me! It made me feel very special, and spurred me on to write! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

SoftRainDrops03: YAY! 17 reviews from you alone! YOU ROCK! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for leaving such kind reviews!

And thanks also to:

Natea, author of "Perfect Prey" a GW fanfic, which is excellent, for letting me use her decapitated heads idea. (J.K. Rowling also used this idea, only with House Elves)

Please forgive all misspellings, and thank you to all my reviewers! *Hugs* I LOVE YOU PEOPLE! AND I COULD'T HAVE DONE IT WITHOUT YOU!!! ^_^ 


	18. Hour 18: Hour of Mocking Laughter

24 Hours

Hour 18: Hour of Mocking Laughter

Shichan Goddess
    
    _"Against the assault of laughter nothing can stand." ~ Mark Twain_

No… 

Lily froze, and the world seemed to go without her from a distance, everything was hazy and the muffled shouts of glee were nearly inaudible. Her gaze was focused on the limp figure that was sprawled at the base of Voldemort's feet.

He wasn't moving. Wasn't taunting. Fear clutched her heat painfully as she strove to get closer—was he breathing?

The seconds ticked by, and Lily could detect nothing. It wasn't until a vicious kick to the stomach made him flinch and gasp for air subconsciously. She could see the hazel brilliance shine through his lidded eyes on his drawn face. His pale pallor was contrasted sharply only by the numerous multitude of bruises and the dark crimson that seeped out from several wounds, including a shallow cut on his brow.

The sight of his blood incensed Lily, and red-hot fury coursed through her veins. But now was not the time nor place for vengeance. She slithered into the mob, stealthily making her way closer to the center of the room as she blended in with the faceless, dark creatures. 

She could not have her revenge now. Not when every action was so crucial to her sanity-be-damned plan. 

But Lily swore upon every star on the sky, as she looked upon the masked faces in the room, that she would inflict her revenge on all of them someday. They could be assured of that.

Her emerald gaze caught the dimmed, weary hazel of her partner.

_Oh yes, they could most certainly be assured of that._

****************************************************************************** 

James opened his eyes a sliver, and glanced blearily around the spinning room. Every bone in his body hurt, and every vein screamed in agony. But there was no time for such complaints. Not when his very life was at stake. 

And as much as James would have liked to pass out, he didn't. For some inexplicable reason, his gaze was drawn to the Death Eater that was slowly making her way across the threshold, closer and closer to him. She looked up for a moment, and he caught her gaze.

The emerald brilliance was unmistakable.

James had never met anyone in the entirety of his life with eyes so striking as hers. Alarm swept through his body as he glared at her, confounded. _How did she get out? _He wondered, _And more importantly, what is she doing here…? _His muddled mind searched for a probable answer, and he could come up with only one. _Perhaps she's here to kill me…? It is important that I don't give away any of the Order's secrets… Or maybe she sees this as an opportunity to kill Voldemort…? Either possibility is plausible…_

Not once did he think that she could be there to rescue him. He did not allow himself that feeble hope. 

To hope was folly. It would only bring heartbreak in the end.

All he knew was that the end was near, and death was at hand. He just did not know whose hand he was to die by—Voldemort's or Lily's?

******************************************************************************

"…But Voldemort's lair can only be found by those who already know where it is." (1) Severus finished in low, even tones as he stared off into the darkness of the trees. The rain had abated, and the forest was silent as the sun peeked through the clouds. Severus took great comfort in simply listening to the tranquil sound of the forest coming back to life, and the moist dewdrops dripping from the leaves of the various trees and plants.

The beautiful serenity was soon ruined however, by a howl of annoyance.

"How in the hell are we supposed to find it then?" Sirius exploded, his face dark and drawn. He turned away from the other wizards, and gave a feral growl, slamming his fists against the trunk of an ancient tree. 

Remus, who had been listening intently, also looked slightly disheartened. Severus snorted and rolled his eyes at the hopeless pair. _'Morons', _He raged, _'Are they really that thick?'_

He opened his mouth to speak, and found, to his utmost disgust, that he was slightly nervous. He had never been comfortable around any of the Marauders, and here he was acting chummy around them. He had sworn his revenge on all of them, but instead he was going to help save the one he hated the absolute most: James H. Potter.

Severus truly didn't give a whit as to what happened to James. But Lily, on the other hand…

He would not condemn her to her death because of that thrice-damned fool Potter.

"I'll take you there." The words were, for once, not arrogantly spoken. They were soft, hesitant, but both the others caught the almost inaudible words.

"What?" Sirius gave a bark of derisive laughter, and turned to Severus with jaded eyes. "You're a Death Eater," He felt the urge to remind him, incredulous. 

"Really, Black? I hadn't noticed."

Remus stepped forward, quite aware of how Sirius' fists were clenching and unclenching. "All right then," He said softly, with confidence that he did not feel. "Lead the way."

Sirius gaped at Remus. "Are you out of your mind? He's a _Death Eater._" Sirius drew the name out slowly, as if it would help Remus comprehend the gravity of the solution. 

Remus sighed, and turned to face Sirius once more. "Not all Death Eaters are evil, Sirius. Just like not all werewolves are man eating devils. Unless you believe differently…?"

Sirius held his silence.

Remus smiled, his weary eyes holding a glint of determination. "He has risked his life to bring us this information. And whether it be true or false, we do not know. He's our best hope right now. So shut your face and follow."

Remus nodded once to Severus, and he turned, under the cover of the shadows once more. He walked through the forest with quick, light steps, and Remus followed without protest.

Sirius hesitated, and growled irritably. "The fool's going to get us all killed," He muttered before following.

******************************************************************************

It would have been so easy to let go…

It was quite tempting, as a matter of fact. The will to live was greater than all else, and the will to die, though cowardly, was nearly as strong. It would have just been so _easy_…

Things were seldom easy anymore.

The world had slowly morphed in his reaching of adulthood. The lines that had so surely divided everything into black and white had blurred, and everything was simply a shade of gray. The choices that he made would affect so many people, so many lives. It was a great responsibility. James was tired, he was _weary _of being so strong all the time. Weary of being the hero. 

If he were dead, he wouldn't have to meet all the expectations that loomed above him with each breath he took.

No more hiding behind the jester's mask.

No more having the lives of so many men and women resting in his shaky hands.

No more having to stop repressing his goddamned desire to break down and just kiss Lily Evans.

No more pain, no more heartbreak, no more sorrow. After all, even if he went straight to hell for his crimes, what could hell have on this?

Unconsciousness wavered enticingly at the edges of his vision, but it was soon replaced by another burst of red-hot agony coursing through his veins. Eyes snapped open in wild, feral torment, mouth opening in a silent scream. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. 

Unconsciousness was driven rudely from his reach, and he mourned its loss. 

Liquidized fire replaced his blood, and James clenched his mouth and shut his eyes as he waited for what seemed like eternity for the curse to pass. It did eventually, leaving him gasping for breath on the cold steel floor as raucous laughter filled the air.

**************************************************************************

Lily clenched her fists in frustration, desperation. The wave finally passed, and she had to calm the rushing in her ears to hear what Voldemort was saying.

The evil creature had stood up from his makeshift throne, and addressed the mob of Death Eaters with triumph.

"—And we, my loyal Death Eater's, we will defeat and conquer Dumbledore's pathetic army, we will kill all those muggle-loving weaklings! We shall destroy the Ministry of Magic! We shall WIN THIS WAR, and take our rightful place—"

And then…

_Laughter_. 

Peals of mirthless laughter, soft at first before slowly and steadily growing louder and louder. James was facing his death.

His doom.

His eternal damnation.

…And he just _laughed_…

Lily was certain that James had finally lost his marbles. That he had gone around the bend. He was a loon, a crazy, .a quack.

His laughter rang out loudly, clearly in the shocked, deadly silence of the room, but it held no maniacal undertone, only a slightly mocking edge. But above all, it held triumph.

Utter and complete triumph. 

It was the laughter of a man who had nothing to lose, the laughter that said he had nothing save it, and only it. The laughter of a man who could be beaten, bruised, and broken in body, but not in spirit.

The laughter died down to the occasional chuckle. He coughed, spitting up blood before turning to look at Voldemort with a grim, twisted smirk on his face before he spoke with a rasping breath, 

"You, my dear Tom…will _never_ win this war. You will _never_ defeat Dumbledore. You will _never_ prosper against the mudbloods. You will _never_ defeat the will and determination of the Order. And most of all…you will _never-_do you hear me Tom?-you will_ never_ defeat me."

*****************************************************************************

Surprisingly, there was no immediate retaliation. James tensed, expecting a curse—any curse to sweep through his being.

But there was nothing.

Only a slightly pleased smile that twisted Voldemort's lips. And somehow, James found that much more terrifying.

******************************************************************************

 "You, there! Servant, come here!"

Lily's focus snapped back from James to Voldemort and his pointing finger. Slowly, ever slowly, the crowd around her drew away and Lily looked about desperately for an escape, hoping in vain that he was calling to another. However, the Death Eater's had slowly receded, and she was left all alone in front of _him. _All of the Death Eaters' attention was focused solely on her, and she could do little. 

Voldemort's eyes gleamed with triumph, and she felt the panic rising slowly within her, burbling, and causing her to feel nauseous. He had found her out, seen through her ruse, and now she was going to die…

Voldemort beckoned her closer to the platform, and when she did not move several hands pushed her into action. She stumbled, landing at Voldemort's feet in a bow, James staring at her though half-glazed eyes a mere few meters away. 

A wand was thrust under her nose, and she stared into the triumphantly cold eyes of Voldemort. She took it on instinct, not believing her great luck—to think, Voldemort had just given her a _weapon_, and—

Voldemort smirked, gazing at the silent crowd with pleased eyes. "Now, my dear and humble servants! I will give you the honor of destroying Potter with me! Come here, girl! You are the one who has been chosen!"

Lily stared at the wand in her hand with mounting horror, then glanced at where James was. They wanted her to…?

"Come servant! You shall destroy him!"

…They did.

"This girl, pulled from my own ranks shall receive the honor of the greatest of magnitude. This girl—_this_ girl! Her name shall be repeated in history for the rest of time, and for being so loyal, I reward her with this! I give her the opportunity—the privilege!—to **_interrogate_** and **_kill_** JAMES POTTER…!"

The crowd roared its approval, but the sound faded from her ears and all that Lily could hear was Voldemort's words echoing in her head.

_…kill James Potter…killJamesPotter…KILLJAMES POTTER…._

And as tempting as this offer would have been twenty-four hours ago, now…

_Now…_

The utter irony of it all did not escape her.

She was there to save him, and now she was there to be his executioner. 

And there was only one word that Lily could think of to explain her tangled and twisted emotions accurately.

_Oh bugger._

A/N: SOOOOOO sorry for the wait. I truly am. I just haven't had any inspiration at all, and then BOOM—this suddenly hits me. I wanted it to be longer, but this just seemed like the right place to stop. I truly will try to do better for the next chapter—I have some scenes written already. And, winter break soon approaches! YAY!!!! More time to write! J Thanks for sticking it out with me, and thank you to my wonderful reviewers who have been patiently prodding me along. Thank you especially to those who wrote me personal e-mails (you know who you are!) —I just got around to reading them, and they inspired me to write this. THANK YOU!!!!


	19. Hour 19: Hour of Truth

24 Hours

Hour 19: Hour of Truth

By: Shichan Goddess

"The one condition coupled with the gift of truth is its use." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

What a fine predicament that Lily had found herself in. It was at this moment that lingering suspicion that the gods hated her was proven true. Voldemort had continued to ramble about "crushing the muggle-lovers" and "victory" and other such nonsense so it was no surprise that Lily found herself drifting into a world where only she and James existed.

She could not tear her emerald eyes away from the prostrate form. The slightly metallic smell of blood wafted through the air and Lily could see the steady stream flowing from various wounds. 

There was already a crimson pool gathered beneath him, creeping steadily outwards as Lily stared at it with morbid fascination. The essence of James' life was making a lovely stain on the concrete floor, and she—his supposed rescuer—was simply staring at him.

Her attention was diverted by lustful cheers, for Voldemort had ended his oration and she suddenly wished she had paid attention. She was met with the horrifying snake-like face staring at her mere inches away, and her knees, to her utmost disgust, turned to water as she felt a huge lurch of fear play ring-a-round-rosie in the pit of her gut.

She was brave, not stupid, after all.

Her chest tightened and she took steady breaths as she gazed into his eyes impassively, willing none of her fear or nervousness to show upon her face. She held her breath, waiting for him to recognize her, waiting for him to command his men to kill her…

But instead…

A glass vial was thrust underneath her nose, its vile odor wafting up to meet her nostrils. Lily's stomach turned as the pungent aroma registered in her memory, and she stared in horror at the burgundy concoction.

… _Veritaserum_ …

******************************************************************************

"Are we _there_ yet?" Sirius questioned, sounding very much like a petulant child during a long train ride.

The answer was short, terse. "No."

"Are we **almost** there?"

"Yes."

Sirius scowled to himself as no elaboration followed. The question had been asked many a times, and every time it was the same thing.

Because although Remus may have had put his faith in the Death Eater, Sirius had not, would not, possibly _could_ not. It was difficult to see past the distorted haze of his memories; it was difficult to change what he had always accepted as the god-given truth. 

This truth was all he had left—the Death Eaters were the evil buggers, and they themselves were the just and good wizards. Black and white. 

If this last foundation came crushing down upon him in this war-ravaged world, what did he have left? What could he hang onto as a lifeline through the dark times?

How could he survive in a world that was created of shades of gray?

******************************************************************************

Oh my, this was just _lovely_. 

It was growing dark. James knew not whether it was simply the dim light that failed to reach the corner of the room or if it was consciousness leaving him…one last time. The edges of his vision blurred, and he coughed harshly, sending a fit of blood flying from his mouth.

He tried to dispel the dizziness that crept upon him, but then wondered what the point of it all was. Why he continued to pursue the futility of living.

Every day brought the struggle for the next drawing of breath. Every day brought battles where he would lose good men, good _friends_. Every day brought the burning question and despairing cry of "Why?".  And at night…

At night… 

It was far, far worse. Remembrance of the dead would plague the mind before he could fall into a restless, uneasy sleep. And that sleep was filled with the demons of his own memories coming to haunt him under the cover of darkness. Often he was woken by the sounds of his screams tearing their way out of his throat. And if that didn't wake him up, the mad spree of curses would. 

Life. Death.

Did it even really matter anymore?

******************************************************************************

It was common knowledge that Veritaserum was a potion concocted by the brilliant wizards in the "back room" as an interrogation drug to be used in warfare. It was common knowledge that this potion was simply an unassuming, harmless liquid that led the witch or wizard to speak the truth.

And the Ministry of Magic had always been content to masquerade this lie to the public.

Few and far between were those who knew precisely about Veritaserum's side effects. 

Veritaserum was not only a truth-telling device. It was also a method of psychological torture during interrogation, and often was the cause of many, many deaths due to overdose. It froze the body with the chill of the Antarctic wind, and then it burned with a fire that seemed to come from Hell itself. If allowed to go untreated, it would cause a slow, steady decay of the lungs, leading to respiratory failure. 

All in all, it normally would cause an extremely agonizing and slow death of the victim by affixation. 

It drove many mad with the pain, and often times, they would beg for death at the end. The kinder and more merciful would reluctantly grant them this reprieve.

And now…

Now…

She couldn't even bear to think about it. Her life had taken the cruelest turn of fate and she realized, detached, that she was slightly numb.

She turned and glanced at the twin doors marking the entrance hopefully. Any time now, the Order would come rushing into their rescue. Just like the movies.

Any time now.                   

…Any time now…

_…Any time now._

******************************************************************************

James turned his head painfully to glance at the Death Eater that was prostrated before Voldemort's feet. He idly wondered what had drawn his attention to the figure—he seemed to be exactly like the rest. 

A vial was thrust into his or her hand, and the Death Eater's head jerked up in shock. As he continued to stare at the hooded face, the Death Eater turned and stared directly into his eyes—it was then that he caught a flash of emerald green.

A green that was as familiar to him as his own deceased mother's, a green that had flashed in fury, in laughter, but never in defeat. Now, those eyes were the only pair in the room that did not hold contempt.

But rather…sorrow.

Fear.

Anger.

Pain.

And with sudden clarity, he _knew_. 

Despite his newfound familiarity with the witch, James did not fool himself. Lily was first and foremost a fellow soldier, as was he. Her duty was strictly to the Order, and the Order had precedence over his life.

It was a choice between duty and a fledging friendship. When it came right down to it, James knew what decision Lily would make.

He wondered hazily how Hell was this time of year.

*****************************************************************************

Amber eyes snapped open, darting towards the figure that was kneeling in front of the platform. James glanced quickly at Lily and Voldemort did not miss the glance. Maliciousness glinted in the crimson eyes, and a perverse sense of curiosity and sadistic glee lurked under the dark, penetrating gaze. 

 …And he wondered…

He let this traitor enter his ranks, asked her to deliver the final blow…as an experiment. A game.

He had not risen to power by being a fool. He had the knowledge—the terrible, terrible knowledge of the workings of the human mind. He took what he wanted by exploiting the corrupt minds of others, by twisting his lies into a web of deception.

He had become the most powerful leader of all because he counted on the basic human emotions of hatred and greed.

His own set of beliefs had been engrained into his followers. And this was the final proof that he was right. If this witch, Dumbledore's handpicked witch, could kill her comrade in cold blood, well…

Then all he had been saying was true.

Even the purest of hearts could be tainted and corrupted when offered the opportunity.

******************************************************************************

The doors remained shut. And…

He wasn't getting up. 

It was an irrational thought. But Lily had faith that James would stand up and laugh at her, stand up and fight.

Stand up and take this god-awful situation off her hands, as he always had.

He had to stand up. He was James bloody Potter, the most infuriatingly stubborn man on this earth. He would never simply give up. He couldn't…He _would_ stand. 

The clock ticked on by, and the restless murmurs of the crowd began to grow louder.

…But he didn't get up. He didn't crack another joke. He just lay _still_…

Lily wanted to scream. To cry.  There was the nearly audible sound of her heart shattering into a million pieces and her hope taking flight as she contemplated what to do.

If she didn't administer the Veritaserum she would immediately be killed and another would, regardless, still administer it. And given the chance she _wasn't_ slain on the spot, she would be faced with the prospect of battling her way through a mob of Death Eaters to the exit, while toting an injured body around. Even in her slightly hysterical daze, the very thought seemed ludicrous. 

If she did, then she would be condemning her partner to a cruel, inhuman death. She would subject him to the possibility of betraying the Order—which was simply _unacceptable_. 

But there was one other option. One that turned her stomach and caused her knees to nearly buckle in sheer horror. 

She also had the possibility of killing James before the Veritaserum could be administered, and save his honor.

…There was no question really as to what option she would take.

With a shuddering, lurching step, she moved closer to the figure on the floor, one hand clenching the neck of the vial and the other clutching her wand.

And Voldemort smiled…

A/N: SORRRRRRYYY! **Cowers in terror** I know that it's been a terribly long time since I last updated, and when I do, it's this short little chapter. Fortunately (or unfortunately)  I decided to cut this chapter down a whole heaping lot so that instead of it's 12 original half-finished pages, it came down to this. The rest of the 12 pages will be added to Chapter 20. Thank you ever so much to my reviewers who persistently encouraged me, especially to those who sent me personal e-mails! You know who you are! *HUGS* Ah yes, and this is dedicated to a friend of mine who just recently had a birthday in…December. -_-' (I know, I know, I procrastinate!) So this is sort of a belated "Happy Birthday" gift. 

P.S. Special thank you to ShandraMeyers and hpdreamer15 (Your e-mail was highly inspirational and lovely! Thank you ever so much!)


	20. Hour 20: Hour of Chance

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 20: Hour of Chance

"There is no such thing as chance;

And what to us seems merest accident

Springs from the deepest source of destiny." ~Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805)

            Voldemort was a betting man.

            As he had told James Potter, this was nothing more than a game. _Life_ itself was a game. A game where the stakes and risks were high, a game where everything and anything could be placed on the line at a moment's notice. Because what sort of game brought the thrill, the _rush_, without a certain amount of peril being involved?

            He had allowed one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix to infiltrate his stronghold; he had even handed her a weapon—two very dangerous decisions that could easily be turned against him. The very idea of him allowing her to continue her charade was absolutely ludicrous. 

            But he had.

            He had taken certain precautions, of course. No one could apparte or dissapparate to or from these grounds. Nor could she use that particular wand against him—he had taken the liberty of constructing a rather sturdy barrier to protect himself. And if she tried to use "Advera Kedavra", well, there was always a Death Eater handy to thrust in the way…

            He had not prospered for so long to die by a silly girl's hands. He simply was curious. Perhaps, if the outcomes were favorable, then he would show mercy by killing her before his men got to her.

            But then again…she was a mudblood. So perhaps not. 

            And if the outcome were less favorable then he would just hand them over to his men for a bit of…fun. 

**************************************************************************************

Someone was tipping his head back, and he squinted vainly at the figure, but could discern no details. He was drifting on the outskirts of reality and into the land of delirium. But even with his feeble grasp on rhyme and reason, the pain made itself abundantly clear, and the familiar smell of Veritaserum wafted toward him across the room and registered in his memory sharply. 

So he did the only thing he could do.

He resorted to being the soldier. He held no fear, nor even conscious decision. He only knew that it was his duty to protect the Order.

Even at death's door, he would _not_ betray the Order.

Would not betray Sirius, Remus, or Peter.

Would not betray Dumbledore.

Would not betray the _light_.

And if it meant his death, then he welcomed his demise with open arms.

**************************************************************************

"Goddamnit!" Sirius bellowed causing startled birds to fly squawking out of the dark green foliage. 

Remus turned to stare at him disapprovingly. "What are you doing Sirius? We're in enemy territory, you can't be giving us away."

Sirius growled deeply in his throat, and turned an enraged glare upon the werewolf. "I'm giving us away? _I'm_ giving us away? Look at us, Remus! We're wandering around with a _Death Eater_ just itching to lead us right into the hands of Voldemort, and you're worried that _I'm_ the one giving us away?"

Remus' glared back, amber eyes dark and irritated. "We've discussed this, Sirius. We have no other option. Unless you've thought up a brilliant idea in the past hour and neglected to share it with us, then I see no other choice."

Sirius' gaze dropped accusingly to the dirt beneath his feet. Grudgingly, he swallowed his anger and nodded imperceptibly. Remus caught it though, and gave a grunt of approval. He turned and continued to walk behind Severus.

Sirius stood, staring at the back of Remus' head for a moment, before slowly dragging his feet to follow. The forest was silent now, unnaturally silent, and the leaves crunched loudly underneath the soles of his feet. The silence would have been welcome by many, because it allowed discretion during the infiltration.

To Sirius, however, it simply meant that he would be alone with his thoughts.

So many witches and wizards had been taken from their ranks, but the Marauders had cheated death time and time again. Sirius could not find this lurching fear and the possibility of death to be _real_. 

He had lived through hardships, through emotional and physical pain. But death…

It was final. Permanent. There were no spells that could instantly repair it. He had never even experienced the death of a pet. How could he face the prospect of that of his best friend's?

How could he fight in the war with such an empty, clawing knowledge that his best friend was gone…?

It would make the war too dear, the whole pointlessness too real…

_ "We'll live through the end of this war, won't we mate?"_

_James was silent for a moment.  "We will win this war."_

"Damn straight!" But despite his spirited response, Sirius realized uneasily that James hadn't answered his question.

So how was he, Sirius, supposed to respond to the question that burning inside his own mind?

And could he, _would _he, be able to accept the death of a brother?

******************************************************************************

Blast it all, Sirius. 

Are you bloody bleeding blind? Do you think that I find this _easy_?

Honestly, Padfoot, I have just as many doubts as you do. Do you think I feel _safe_ trusting our lives with a Death Eater who absolutely hates every fiber in our being? Do you think I'm comforted by the fact that we're surrounded by utter silence? There's nothing I'd like more than to blast into You-know-w—_Voldemort's_ fortress and rescue James and Lily without all this silly infiltration business. To hell with all the dangers and precautions. These are our _friends_.

But it isn't about what I want anymore. 

Don't you understand, Sirius? 

It stopped being about what I wanted the instant James and Lily were captured. Above all, I want them to be _safe_. But that's nothing but my whimsical fancy. Hoping and wanting—what good does that do you? We need to do something. Desperate times, desperate measures and all of that. So if I can help—even in the slightest way—then I will be content. To infiltrate with the element of surprise heightens their survival rate, and _that_ is what is important. If we give up our lives trying to save James, then we die with honor and with no regrets.

So don't you ever, _ever_ think that I'm doing this for the sake of our own lives. This is the best and only option we have.

Why can't you see that?

******************************************************************************

Lily had thought that the situation could not have gotten any worse. But in that fatal error, she had failed to remember _never_ to challenge the power of worse.

Garbed in Death Eater's robes, she crept toward the prone figure on the floor. His eyes were half-shut, hazy and dulled with pain. Blood stained the side of his face, contrasting sharply against his pale pallor. His eyes had changed color once more, and they were a brilliant green; a reflection of her very own eyes. 

She knelt by him, hesitantly reaching out to touch him. She felt the weight of all the eyes upon her, and she roughly pulled his head onto her lap with a wince. James made no sound at all, staring blankly into her obscured mask. All the while she spat curses and taunts at him, her mouth working without thought to bring satisfaction among the masses.

She looked at him, at his vacant face devoid of all caring before wondering tightly if he _knew._

If he _knew_ whom his executioner was behind the thrice-damned mask.

She tried desperately to communicate with her emerald eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. She had always been told that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and she wished that she could communicate exactly what she was thinking through them.

She lifted the vial to his lips, and he turned his head away with a jerk, lips clenched shut. She slapped him, a sharp crack in the tense, eager silence, and his head flew back. It brought a wave of titters through the crowd, buying her a few minutes to contemplate desperately what she was going to do. . 

_I'm sorry,_ her mind whispered as her heart screamed in agony. It clenched so tightly that she was afraid it would burst out of its chest cavity when his lolling head came to meet her eyes, and a corner of his mouth gently pulled itself up in a mockery of his usual grins. 

For a moment, clarity made itself into his gaze. He recognized her, gave her a small nod. He knew what she was supposed to do by the proverbial rulebook, and he accepted his death at her hands. 

Somehow, that hurt more than his condemnation.

His eyes slowly drift shut, a small peaceful smile gracing his features.

"Do it," He breathed, and her grip tightened subconsciously on her borrowed wand.  "Lily," He whispered, his eyes gazing seriously, earnestly, into her own depths. "Please, _please_—kill me. I would rather die by your hand than by someone else's. Please. If you have ever felt any compassion in your heart for me, do this."

A white noise made itself known in Lily's ears and she could scarcely hear his next broken words over the pounding of her heart.

"Please…" He breathed. "Please…kill me."

Lily shut her eyes, and took a deep breath, steadying herself. A hot burst of anger rushed through her being, and she replied hotly. "No." 

James' eyes darkened. "Lily…"

"_No_, do you hear me?" She hissed as she leaned closer towards him. "You are not going to die by my hand. You are _not_ going to die. You're James bloody Potter, and if anyone can get us out of this situation, you can. We are going to get out of here alive and breathing, or so help me I will go down to hell and haunt you for eternity! Do you understand me, Potter?"

James grimaced, then pressed his lips tightly together. "Lily, I can't go anywhere in this condition, much less create an escape plan and carry it out. Why are you being so stubborn?"

"Why are you giving up?" Lily countered. "So shut up and let me tell you what we're going to do. Let me do all the work and just play along, okay?"

His eyes clenched shut in sheer desperation. This was suicidal, and he knew it, and she knew it, and it could endanger the Order…

"Please? Trust me."

Bah, women. He never could deny her anything.

******************************************************************************

Dumbledore stared blankly into the merrily cackling fire. Shadows danced across the warm room, but Albus saw nothing; felt nothing but a sickening twist in his stomach and a dreadful emptiness that threatened to engulf him.

He felt a thousand tonight. He was alone in the room, but the spirits of the dead rested uneasily upon his conscience. The Order had lost so many bright and brilliant souls. It was war, after all, but the numerous deaths of his closest students did not grow any easier with the passing of time.

He had just been informed of Lily and James' disappearance. His heart lamented the imminent loss of his brightest pupils. He had come to think of them as the children he had never had. And he may have been an old man, but even he did not miss the sudden feeling of rightness whenever they were together. He had not missed the loving light in their eyes obscured by their toughened exterior. 

For such love to be snuffed out of existence…

Dumbledore had endured many hardships in his life, but they all paled in respect to this. So he sat, helpless and alone with his demons and his dead. 

Yes, he felt a thousand tonight.

******************************************************************************

Lily took another deep, calming breath, and lifted the vial once more. James thrashed a bit, but without any real force behind it. She cursed at him, her hollow laughter resonating strangely in her ears. She attempted to obscure his face from view and began to pour the Veritaserum …right over his closed lips, tricking past his mouth and down the side of his face to his neck. 

She did so slowly, calculatingly searching for a hint of suspicion, for a hint of realization as to what she was doing, but found none.

Perhaps this stupid plan would work after all. Perhaps Lady Luck would decide to smile their way.

**************************************************************************

But Lady Luck is a fickle bitch.

Lily's treachery, contrary to her belief, had not gone unnoticed by all.

Evans, Evans, Evans. Do you really think so little of me? Oh, you hide what you're doing extremely well. But you forget my dear, that I am Lord Voldemort. And I see all. 

Such a pity. Rash, foolish mudblood attempting to save her partner. How utterly moronic. Just like a Gryffindor.

Malfoy fumed, beside himself with anger. "My Lord," He hissed. "May we intervene yet?"

Voldemort acquiesced with a wave of his hand. 

******************************************************************************

Please, please, please let this work. She felt the fantastic clenching in her gut as no one stopped her in her deception. She began to feel giddy with excitement and anxiety. The vial was half-empty now, and James' would simply be sticky, not sprouting out the Order's secrets.

They were actually going to get away with this…

The only thing that posed the question was what they would do afterwards. She hadn't really gotten to that part of the plan quite yet, but she hadn't been too certain they would survive this first step.

But her fears for the future step proved unnecessary.

Because as we said, Lady Luck is a bitch.

The Veritaserum was plucked deftly out of her fingers. 

"Stand aside, mudblood!" Came the low, guttural cry from Malfoy as he shoved her aside. In moments, Lily found herself flat on her rump a few feet away, watching with disturbing fascination and utter helplessness as Malfoy pried James' jaw open and poured the potent liquid down James' throat. The crazed Death Eater methodically forced James' jaw shut and plugged his nose, making it impossible to breathe.

"Swallow," Malfoy ordered hoarsely, a fanatical gleam in his cruel blue eyes. 

James thrashed wildly, desperately, but the human want for air finally won. He gasped, and swallowed. 

A/N: Again, SO SORRY for the delay in updating. This was an irritating chapter to write. But thanks to everyone's constant support, I was able to get past by blasted writer's block and throw out this chapter. I have planned out what I want for each of the next chapters, so hopefully they will be written quickly. Pardon my spelling errors, and once again, and huge THANK YOU to all my loyal reviewers who kick my ass and make me write! *Hugs* I really couldn't have written this without all of you! You guys actually pushed my past a 1000 reviews! ^_^ Dream come true for me. I never thought that this would happen with this little story I wanted to make. Shows you how much I know. Thank you, thank you, thank you ever so much again!


	21. Hour 21: Hour of Endurance

24 Hours

Shichan Goddess

Hour 21: Hour of Endurance

"To endure is greater than to dare; to tire out hostile fortune; to be daunted by no difficulty; to keep heart when all have lost it—who can say this is not greatness?"

—William Makepeace Thackeray

Hot and thick and sweet— the Veritaserum seeped down his throat, venom masquerading as honey. It intoxicated him like fine liquor, befuddling and dismantling his mental capacities, while at the same time seeming to enhance his senses. James could feel the liquid invading his every cell. But he found to his detached horror that he didn't particularly care. _Why did it matter?_ The poison seemed to sing silently. _What was the point in resisting?_

He dwelt on it for but a moment, thoughts heavy and sluggish as he tried to remember why he had fought so hard against it. But every time he attempted to grasp his slippery, elusive thoughts, a burning sensation ran briefly through his body, a burning not unlike when one would touch a hot stove. Not strong enough to hurt, only to mildly singe. It cautioned him not to touch. Not to remember.

James shrugged mentally. He had never been the sharpest quill in the case. With the spirit of a true Marauder, he reached for his memories. Reached for his resistance.

* * *

Lily watched with utmost bemusement as James's struggles gradually grew weaker. She simply could not wrap her mind around her situation.

It hadn't worked.

Her plan, so brilliantly simple, had not worked. It was supposed to have worked. In all the stories she had ever read as a child, the good guys always won.

Realization that this—this situation, this war, this reality—was not like that of her storybooks finally hit her for the very first time. When she had joined the war effort, there had been no doubt in her mind that the Light would triumph.

She was starting to see that it was not that simple. And at that moment, an inkling of doubt clouded her mind.

Lily blinked, shoving the emotion out of her system. She was Lily Evans. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was a witch. She was a muggle.

And blast it all, she would triumph.

And at that moment, hope was reborn from the ashes of her self-doubt.

Her thoughts were broken however, by the agonized scream of a dying animal. It was filled with pain and rage so strong, that it was nearly beyond her comprehension.

Emerald eyes focused once more upon the once prostrate form. James was withering about on the floor in unprecedented anguish. Her heart clenched tightly in her breast; she could hardly breathe. It was as if she could feel the echoes of his pain resounding in her.

And then, a scream so unlike what she had ever heard, spurred her to lunge to her feet in a desperate attempt to free James' from his agony.

She would win. For him.

* * *

As he reached, the annoying little tingle in his veins…evolved. 

It evolved into a burn rivaling that of the Cruciatus curse. Liquidized molten fire from the deepest pit of the seventh hell was making its way through his cells, and he couldn't bite down the tortured scream that tore past his bloodied lips.

And then any scrap of privacy that he might have had, any shred of tattered dignity that he might have clung to, was abruptly disposed of. Every thought that entered his mind was directed past his lips with no discretion. Every emotion, every possible secret, every thought—his whole psyche was exposed for the malicious and uncaring world to observe.

* * *

_'Great,' _Remus thought as a fat water droplet landed on his face. The sky had clouded over once again, dark and dangerous. The wind was picking up, and it clawed at his exposed skin. In minutes the sky would overflow, and torrents of rain would fall from the heavens. 

Making it that much harder to tote out injured fellows. And although Remus was optimistic, he realized that after nearly twenty-four hours in the care of Voldemort that his two friends would more than likely be incapacitated.

Of course, he would have to find his friends first. It felt as if they'd been walking for hours on end, and he could see that Sirius was getting more and more restless. Snape was apathetic to their anxiety, and was simply walking on, damn him. Remus hadn't heard a peep from him for several hours now.

"Damn it, Snape," Sirius growled from behind. "Does _this _constitute as 'close' in the language of Deatheaters? We've been walking through this bloody forest for ages! When are we going to get there?"

Eyes dark as ebony glared at Sirius over a cloaked shoulder. "You sound like a child, but I suppose that with your mentality that's to be expected. If you hadn't been so busy feeling sorry for yourself, you might have noticed the change in surroundings."

Remus glanced around with interest, chagrined to note that he had not noticed the change in surroundings either. The woods were thinning out, and the soil was growing rockier. What little animal life had been in the remote depths of the forest was now completely gone—even birds did not dare sing their melody. And he become aware of, for the first time, the growing stench that was reaching his enhanced senses. His werewolf side was picking up the suffocating air of suffering and wickedness.

Sirius had fallen silent, and after a few more minutes of crunching through the dead foliage, Snape stopped.

"We have arrived."

* * *

A loud scream echoed in the now silent halls, and it took James a moment to realize that the god-awful sound was tearing its way past his throat. 

Amid the screams, James found himself babbling, spilling the very secrets of his soul. Horrified, he tried to calm his thoughts. He imagined a solid blank wall in his mind, but the Veritaserum was not that easily fooled.

_'Don't think, don't think, can't stop it, mustn't let them know, mustn't let them **see**…shut up, shut up, shut up, oh Merlin, shut up' _

To James' horror, he found his voice rasping his very thoughts. He tried to bring his arms up to forcibly keep his mouth shut, but his arms were useless, dangling to his sides. The harder he tried to move them, the more the venom burned through his body. He gave a gasping sob as he gave up, panting, "Oh Merlin, it hurts, it hurts, it _burns_…"

Lily reached for her borrowed wand, stumbling towards James, intent on easing his pain. She had no clear concept of what she was about to do, only resolution that she would persevere by any means necessary.

But before she could reach him, before she could utter any spell, Lily found herself restrained roughly by Death Eaters. The wand was plucked from her slim, strong fingers. Though lacking in the cerebrum department, the henchmen did have brute strength. They carried her kicking and screaming to their amused Lord.

Two Death Eaters dragged James's convulsing body up to Voldemort, disposing him at their Lord's feet.

A cold, cruelly amused quirk of lips, and then: "What is your name?"

James squirmed in agony as he attempted to stifle his response. "Jamesss" His teeth were clenched shut, the veins of his neck throbbing with the strain.

"What is your name?"

A furious shaking of the head was his response. His body thrashed wildly side to side as he attempted to restrain himself. After what seemed like an eternity of struggling, he weakened. "James Potter."

"Where did you go to school?"

Another struggle, more furious than before. Another scream of frustration and anguish as the venom worked its magic. "Mustn't answer, can'tcan'tcan't, if I answer the small questions," James gasped to himself as his thoughts made their way past his lips. "If I answer the small questions I'll answer the big ones it burns oh God it burns make it stop, make it **stop**! _Hogwarts_…" The last words were nearly sobbed, and Lily felt her heart wrench.

"Leave him alone!" Lily's cry made Voldemort stop short. He turned, and stalked towards her.

Voldemort's lip curled, clutching her jaw between his claw-like fingers. He pulled her furious face closer to his, so close that she could smell his foul breath upon her cheek.

"All I wish to know is why. Why forfeit your life for this scum?"

"You shall never understand the power of friendship." _Of love._

"Oh, but I do. I know how oft' if fails under trial and tribulation. I have witnessed it break through the passage of time, the burden of jealousy, the plague of indifference. It blooms for a short while, and only when convenient. But in the end, when life is not so leisurely, it, without fail…wilts."

"Then you have never known true friendship."

* * *

Three figures hunched behind the last bit of shrubbery in front of the large estate. The house—if that's indeed what one could call it—was enormous, ancient, and terribly foreboding against the inky sky. 

Remus pulled his robe around him tightly, attempting to ward off the chill before continuing his explanation. "…and that's what we'll do."

Snape stared at him before sneering. "This is utter madness. Has the chill addled your brains? Or is this truly the best that the Order has to offer?"

Sirius wore a look of contemplation on his handsome features. His brow furrowed, and he slowly said, "It could work…"

Snape jerked back with a start of surprise. "I did not betray Lord Voldemort to throw my life away on this idiotic plan!"

"Shut up! Think about it. Death Eaters haven't exactly been known for being the brightest of fellows. If we really can convince them that there are ten thousand men storming through these doors, then they'll panic, and they'll turn on one another. During the chaos, we snatch James and Lily and sneak out. All we need is Death Eater robes."

Snape ran a frustrated hand over his face, dark eyes furious. "You fool! What if this does not work?"

"Then it doesn't."

* * *

Voldemort gave a bark of sharp laughter, a malicious glint in his glowing crimson eyes. "Friendship you say? How about that Potter? Do you consider this mudblood a _friend_?" 

He turned towards James, half-turning his back towards Lily. "Truly Potter, tell me. What do you feel for this witch?"

Lily fingered the wand that was hidden in her sleeve. This was a perfect opportunity! His attention was divided. However, she found herself hesitating, half-fearfully wondering what the response would be. She knew that it was wrong to want to know his feelings in his exposed and vulnerable state, yet her damned human nature continued to want to know.

James squirmed, twitching as the answer tried to force its way past his lips. He bit down once again, blood trickling down his cheek and the nape of his neck.

"Potter, I asked you a question. What do you feel for this foul creature?"

The emotion was so strong, so fierce, that it was difficult to keep it from bursting out. The Veritaserum pumped more intensely through his veins, sensing his determination to keep silent.

The pain doubled, tripled, quadrupled, and James thought that he would go mad. Finally, it came, a broken whisper.

"…I love her."

"What was that Potter?"

"I love her!"

"Pardon? Tell me again, Potter, what do you feel for this mudblood?"

"I LOVE HER!"

A/N: Yes, I know. I suck. What can I say? Grovels at feet I am reallllllllly realllllllly sorry about the lack of updates, but Junior year was hell. Between my AP exam and the SATs and so on and so forth, life has been rather busy. But now that it's summer I have decided to get off my lazy arse and finish this story! Sorry for it being so short, but this is where I wanted to end it. Thank you to all my reviewers who have made hope stay alive and made me write! Glomps THANK YOU!


	22. Hour 22: Hour of Kisses

24 Hours 

_Shichan Goddess_

_Hour 22: Hour of Kisses_

"_A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." Ingrid Bergman_

Lily's mouth dropped open. Veritaserum would not, _could_ _not_ lie. The sudden rush of emotion that came from his proclamation did a tap dance in her chest, clamoring loudly for attention. She pushed it away, storing the moment away deep inside her heart for later contemplation.

Voldemort's lips twisted into a smirk of distaste and satisfaction. "Well," He murmured softly, silkily, "Then you will learn the agony of love with her blood splattered upon you. Then, perhaps, you shall not find it as easy to resist my questions of the Order."

Lily's gut twisted in fear as the malicious snake eyes turned to her, glowing the same crimson color as the blood coursing through her veins. She was paralyzed by the utter malevolence and the eager, crazed gleam at the prospect of murder.

"N-no!" Came the pained gasp from James' lips as he struggled to get off the floor.

"Yes." Voldemort stated coldly. "You see, I need this if I am to be immortal."

His words resounded in Lily and James' heads, and both wondered at his comment. How could killing someone create immortality…? But it was a question for a later time.

After all, the answer wouldn't really matter much if they were dead.

* * *

Remus peered anxiously down the deserted corridor before beckoning the hidden Severus and Sirius to join him.

Sirius approached with a look of intense disgust on his handsome face. He gathered a fistful of his long, dark robes in one hand and a Death Eater's mask disdainfully in the other.

"I can't believe I'm actually going to wear this," Sirius muttered irritably.

"Stop your whining, Sirius, and put it on. You know this is the only way." Remus called, having already fastened his own to his face, obscuring his features. He turned to Severus, who was standing several feet away. "Are you ready?"

Severus assented with a curt nod, although his insides had twisted themselves into an ornate knot.

Remus carefully placed a hand on the door. The noise from within was faintly audible through the rough oaken doors. He creaked it open, and slipped into the room of captivated Death Eaters.

Voldemort was on an elevated stage, with every Death Eater's eyes fixated upon him. On the floor—Remus' heart gave a sickening lurch—was James. He recognized James' unruly hair even from a distance, having seen it poking out from underneath the bedcovers for seven years. Remus tore his eyes away from the prone figure, focusing on Lily as she fell limp against the men restraining her.

Remus moved closer to the stage, as startled as the Death Eaters themselves when Lily suddenly ripped her way free of the restricting arms.

Remus surreptitiously raised his wand at the exact same instant as Sirius and Snape. Shadows appeared on the walls, an entire teeming mass of them, lit by the torchlight. And in the lead of all these figures came the unmistakable shadow of Dumbledore himself.

* * *

Once Lily was free she immediately plunged her right hand into her robes, desperate fingers seeking out the slim wand hidden there.

Almost lazily, Voldemort called out "Expelliarmus," and the wand hidden in Lily's sleeve came flying to his hand.

"Now, now, Lily," Voldemort purred, "We mustn't let children play with grown-up toys. And your filthy little mudblood hands shouldn't be touching a proper wizard tool."

Her shock and dismay must have made an appearance on her face, because Voldemort burst into high, cold laughter. His laughter was overpowered however, by a terrific bang, and for a split second Voldemort started, taking his attention off of Lily.

It was more than enough.

She was moving before his cruel crimson eyes had completed their flickering towards the noise. She felt no fear, no pain. It was as if she had planned it all along.

She lifted her hand into the air and sent a curse to Voldemort—the first one she could think of, the first one she had ever learned on that train ride to Hogwarts as a first year—

"Waddiwasi!"

Voldemort went flying against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Tarantallegra!" She cried out in her mind alone, her lips betraying no sound at all. Voldemort made to get up, but found he couldn't on his wobbly legs. It was only later that Lily realized she had done all this without her wand.

Unbidden her wand came to her by her will alone, jerking out of Voldemort's hand. She stopped for a moment, staring blankly at the crumbled heap of robes on the opposite side of the room. Voldemort's scream of rage shook her out of her stupor, and she hobbled to where James lay deathly still, eyes half-closed.

Lily felt a lurch in her stomach as an invisible hand clenched her heart. She dropped down to where he lay, running a hand across his cheek. He groaned, his head turning toward her hand.

"Hurts…" Came the breathless whisper.

"I know, James…and this is might hurt even more. I'm sorry."

With almost inhuman strength, Lily jerked James' limp body upwards, wincing at his pained gasp as his eyes flew open. She threw an arm over her shoulders, and helped support him while half-dragging, half-carrying him to the exit.

"Come on, James," She muttered in his ear, "Come on, stay with me. I need you to walk—do you hear me? I need you to help me. Can you do it?"

James gave a weak grin, and he blinked sluggishly to regain his focus. "For you, I--" The Veriterserum prevented him from lying, so he amended, "I could try to do an Irish jig."

Relief was evident on her face as he shifted some of his weight off her and concentrated on walking quickly toward the exit. They hugged the wall as the exit loomed closer and closer.

"Stop them!" Came the enraged cry of Voldemort "STOP THEM!"

* * *

Chaos.

Utter and complete chaos.

Sirius had never been quite as good as James in Transfiguration, but he still had passed with high marks. That, and his desire for sheer madness and panic had allowed him to create a pseudo-army with the branches and the extra robes he had found laying about. Coupled with the bangs that Severus and Remus were concocting, and the shadows that were thrown across the walls, all had worked out quite well. Of course, they were absolutely useless and certainly could not hurl hexes, but then the Death Eaters had never been renowned for their brightness. After the initial hexes had been cast, and a few Death Eaters had been hit, they had panicked and turned upon each other.

Come to think of it, they were actually injuring each other far more effectively than Remus and Sirius were. Sirius cackled quietly, enjoying setting fire to the ridiculous robes that the Death Eater's wore.

Chaos, thy servant's name is Sirius.

He turned, ready to have some more fun until Remus gave him the signal.

He was startled to see furious and icy blue eyes surrounded by wisps of straggly blonde hair. As Malfoy's hand closed against his throat, Sirius noticed somewhat absently that the mask that had obscured his face now lay at his feet.

_Damn._

* * *

Lily and James hobbled as quickly as they could to the exit. They were virtually ignored as they limped past the swarming, panicked Death Eaters. Lily scarcely spared them a glance, but put her body protectively between James and the mob.

James' hand snaked out to steady himself against the wall, gasping for breath. Lily slowed her pace but didn't stop, murmuring comforting nonsense as he tried to fill his tortured lungs.

She glanced hurriedly behind them, and saw with a frightened jolt that Voldemort had made it to his feet. He was trying desperately to push his way past his followers.

"Where is the Order?" He bellowed, his voice echoing upon the walls. "Tell me James, tell me now! Where is the Order?"

James squeezed his eyes tightly closed, desperately trying to defy the command.

Voldemort's voice grew louder as he drew closer and closer. "Where is the Order? Where is the Order? WHERE IS THE ORDER!"

James trembled in pain, staring at Lily pleadingly. "Help me," He rasped. "Don't let me tell, don't let me tell I can't stop it shut me up please Lily, please…"

Lily could feel his pulse racing, and the words were almost past his lips when she whirled him about by his shoulders and threw him more fully against the wall.

Her lips met his, and she tasted the sweet metallic taste of blood as his secret words passed soundlessly into her mouth.

James blinked at her, dazed as she threw his arm around her shoulder once again and dragged him through the open door amid the sea of confused Death Eaters trying to get out. She turned and met Voldemort's eyes for a long moment. Voldemort's inarticulate scream of rage echoed in the chamber as Lily and James stumbled out into the night.

_A/N: Ehm, sorry about the extraordinarily long wait. Life and stuff. Here's the chapter—sorry it's short, but I cut scenes out to put in the next chapter because I knew I would probably never post this otherwise. It hasn't been edited either, so please disregard any mistakes. I'm going to college in the fall, so I'd like to finish this story up before then._

_Oh, and since I don't believe I've ever mentioned it before and a reviewer warned me about having to do so, Harry Potter and all the characters found in this fanfic do not belong to me, they belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money off of this. And yes, if you actually believed that these were my characters then…wow, you're incredibly daft and have been living under a rock for the last ten years._


	23. Hour 23: Hour of Realization

24 Hours Shichan Goddess

_Hour 23: Hour of Realization_

_If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you.  
__**A. A. Milne**__, __Winnie the Pooh_

Lily stumbled, biting back a curse as her foot got entangled with the gnarled, twisted roots of an ancient tree. She yanked it free, ignoring the searing shriek of pain from her ankle. She glanced over her shoulder fearfully, before turning her attention to James' bowed head that was almost level with her own. His harsh pants seemed to echo in the eerily silent forest.

James' footsteps were slowly growing wearier and his weight steadily increasing on her slim shoulders.

"Sorry," He muttered repentantly, and the weight lessened a little bit. But after a few more hesitant treads he was leaning against her once again.

Lily grunted and called them to a halt. James said nothing, reaching a shaking hand to wipe off the sweat that had gathered on his upper lip. Lily scanned the forest, desperately searching for a place where they could rest, hidden from pursuers. True, due to some miracle or other, they were not yet being actively followed, but it was only a matter of time before that would change.

James' suddenly increased weight nearly made her knees buckle, and James murmured for her to set him down. A few paces farther to her right, she noticed a sizable rock hidden by a substantial amount of foliage. After what seemed like an eternity, she managed to prop him against it.

"Wait here, all right? I'm going to scout the surrounding area." She waved her stolen wand, attempting with all her strength to conjure the protective charms that she knew so well. But the wand only gave a feeble sputter of red sparks, and Lily let her hand drop to her side, exhausted.

As she raised her hand to try again, James interrupted, "Don't strain yourself, Lily…your magic needs time to recharge—your body's simply not up to it right now."

The witch gave a resigned sigh. She knew that James was right, but it was still irksome.

"Better to save your strength when the Death Eaters come to call for tea and biscuits."

Lily's lips twitched into what would have once resembled a smile, and then crept away, searching for signs of the enemy, and for a possible way out.

Once James was sure she was out of sight, he spit out the blood that had been pooling in his mouth. He lifted a trembling hand to wipe the excess off the corner of his lips, absurdly worried that she'd be disgusted.

James closed his eyes and tried to take inventory of his injuries. He found that it required too much effort on his part, because all of the pain just seemed to bleed together. He leaned against the boulder and sighed, shivering slightly in the cool night air. He wondered dully if this was what it was like to die.

_Don't think like that! You're not going to die…at least, not until Lily is out of this mess. You just need to stay awake, and do something useful, for Merlin's sake! Well, I suppose it's all right…if I rest my eyes for…a little while. Just while I think of a plan…_

He was startled from his hazy doze by Lily's return. He forced his eyes to half-mast and gave her a wan smile. "Nothing?"

"No. The problem is that I have absolutely no idea where we are, and I'm not entirely sure where to go. Wouldn't do for us to just get lost in this forest and die from something stupid like starvation."

She twirled a stupid little pirouette on the spot, and was unsurprised when nothing occurred. "Well, it was worth a shot."

James barked a laugh then groaned. "Damn, wish that had worked." He closed his eyes, and winced when his head connected with the back of the boulder. He was as pale as the victims of the Dementor's kiss. Something swelled uncomfortably in her chest, and she felt the icy fingers of dread close against her throat.

"Are you all right?"

One dull brown eye cracked open to stare at her. "I'm not dead."

"That's not what I meant. Do you think you can manage an escape if the Death Eaters come to call?"

There was a slight pause, a slow intake of breath. "No."

Blood oozed from various cuts and nicks on his arm, his face. Lily tenderly gathered up a bit of her borrowed robe and reached to wipe the blood away from his face.

He flinched before she got too close, and Lily withdrew looking hurt.

He averted his eyes. "Could you…not wear those robes?" He asked awkwardly.

Lily gave a start. "Why?"

"They're Death Eater robes," he muttered embarrassed. "They…." He trailed off, but Lily understood. She tugged the robes over her head.

He gave her an embarrassed half-smile. His eyes closed involuntarily, and his final conscious thought was that if this were it, the time to fall off the proverbial broomstick, at least he wouldn't be alone in the last moments before he hit the ground.

Sirius choked as the pale hand tightened on his neck, lifting him a few inches off the ground. He clawed desperately at the hands, and watched, horrified, as Voldemort slithered to top the platform.

"Remus!"

Remus was being forced to kneel in front of the Dark Lord by two burly Death Eaters. Voldemort nodded slightly, and the two Death Eaters allowed Remus to stand.

The Death Eater restraining Remus on the left tossed back his hood and grinned at the captive, running his tongue over sharp yellow teeth. Fenrir Greyback licked Remus' nape over and old scar, and murmured in feral rasp before moving away, "How nice it is to see one of my creations."

The hand at Sirius' throat grew lax for a moment, and it allowed Sirius to get a lungful of air. Despite the ongoing chaos from the Death Eaters still desperately trying to make it out the door, Sirius had a perfect view of Remus. Remus stood alone in front of Voldemort, wand hand frozen cautiously in the air. His gray eyes darted to the two Death Eaters that had their wand trained upon him.

"Remus Lupin," Voldemort purred softly. "How often I wondered when I would meet you. Come. I invite you to join my ranks."

"Never!" Remus spat.

"What loyalty should you have to those that scorn you? Why risk your life for people who hate you just because of what you are? I know what you are, Lupin, and yet I still welcome you into this magnificent fold.

"Join me and you and I shall rebuild a world where werewolves are not treated like scum! Join me, as so many others of your kind have. Join me, and you shall at last be free of the hate that people who haven't even met you judge you by!"

In Remus' gray eyes there was a flicker, a flicker of longing for Voldemort's promises of equality.

"Remus!" Sirius called desperately, trying to pry away the fingers that had renewed their grip on his throat.

"I-" Remus turned and looked at him, eyes blank, frozen.

"Think about it…" Came the murmured hiss.

"MOONY!" Sirius bellowed desperately, struggling with the hands.

The nickname had its desired effect. Remus seemed to be shaken out of his stupor, and raised his wand. With a quick flick of his wand the Death Eater holding Sirius went stiff with the full body binding curse. He swiftly deflected the curse that sped his way, and yanked Sirius to his feet.

The two threw their hoods over their heads and their masks appeared to cover their faces. Without glancing back, they were swallowed by the mob of Death Eaters thundering out the door, Voldemort's mad laughter following them.

"Think about it Lupin…" The hiss traveled to their ears even as they crossed the threshold of the chamber.

As the pair ran, Sirius sneaked a glance at his long-time friend. He glanced warily out of the corner of his eye to one of his life-long friends, wondering, wondering…

_What if…?_

No. It was Moony! He would never…. But Dumbledore had confirmed that there was a leak in the Order. And Sirius couldn't banish the memory of the desperate longing in Moony's gray eyes.

_What if?_

He shook his head to banish the thought. But it was too late. Voldemort's words remained in the back of his mind, whispering, speculating. Doubting. The seed of poisonous mistrust was already germinating in his mind. And he kept wondering…

…_What if?_

Lily wrapped her arms around herself, staring at James. He looked so pale and worn, a shadow of his usual cheerful self. Only the soft rasp of his breath inhaling and exhaling prevented her from shaking him awake to make sure he was still alive.

She gave an involuntary shiver as she thought about what had occurred in the chamber. Her hands trembled as she dressed James' wounds with strips of her cloak. Her mind replayed the scenario over and over again. Would she really have done it?

Would she, could she, have killed James in order to protect the secrets of the Order? Would she have put him out of his misery so that at least he would die by a friend's hand, instead of that of the cruel and merciless Death Eaters?

Even she wasn't totally sure.

What was arguably for the greater good—the protection of the Order—should have superseded any of her qualms. It was one life versus hundreds, and both she and James knew and accepted that. So why did she decide to risk it all by saving James?

And deep in her heart Lily knew. She examined the proclamation he had made under veritaserum, took it out and cradled it gently in the palm of her heart, and she knew. There were no angels singing praises of glory, there were no violins, there wasn't even a great flash of an epiphany, just a slow, comfortable understanding being brought to the surface. It was something she knew, something she had always known but never acknowledged.

She loved him. As much, or even more, then he loved her. That was what had stayed her hand; that was why she could not be his executioner. She could not bear to live in a world without him.

She examined his appearance, and was alarmed to find it more drawn and haggard then before. Where he had once still had had the light of laughter in his face, now there was only a silent, pale mask. He looked so wrong, empty and utterly devoid of the life that she always associated with him, that Lily's heart gave a frightened lurch, pounding painfully against her ribcage. She got jerkily to her feet.

"James? …Oh Merlin, no! James!"

A/N:

I am SO sorry for not updating. Life got in the way, really, and I've always had difficulty finishing my fics. Again, I apologize profusely for the long period of time without updates. I would really like to thank all of you that wrote to me and left me reviews—I apologize also for not responding to them; I actually didn't realize that anyone was still reading this until I checked my old e-mail address and saw the wonderful reviews and e-mails people had left. I stopped using that particular e-mail address two and a half years ago, and I don't know what made me go and check it today of all days. But seeing all of those e-mails/reviews made me go and write this immediately. So THANK YOU very much for sticking with this story, I promise that I WILL finish the last chapter much more promptly than this one.

Oh, and for you readers who are re-reading this, I did in fact change the ending to the chapter, just the last bit, which seemed a bit too melodramatic in the first version.


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